I sold my jetta (mentioned here) on Sunday. As the purchaser was test driving the car up 24 and I was describing the various details that gave the car character, I realized how much I'm going to miss it. I love that car. I love that I was driving around with the cars behind me smelling french fries or potato chips. I love that you have to turn off the windshield wipers at the exact correct moment, otherwise they'll get stuck in the middle of the windshield. (This is because they don't have enough juice to make it to the bottom.) I love that there's no power steering (except when I'm trying to get out of a tight street parking spot.) I love that if you attempt to drive immediately after starting the car, the brakes don't really work. They work, they just don't work easily for about a minute or less. I think it's because the vacuum has to get vacuumie, or the compression has to get compressed, or some such thing. I love that it had 255,992 miles and I was the second owner! (I love that a lot.)In other news we've been pretty sick around these parts. It all started with a crowd of people who showed up last weekend to celebrate our friend's birthday via webcam. The group had many children, several of which were sick. I remember Christy walking in and leaning to Heather and pointing to Marley's eye and saying "Do you think that's pink eye?" It's also quite possible that it wasn't that gathering that caused the illnesses considering how many of my coworkers have been stricken with similar things. My honeypot had been basically bedridden for enough days that I was starting to get worried about him (He fell ill last Wednesday.) Today, when I got home from work, he was out of bed and looking pretty spunky. I, on the other hand, went to work today and came out feeling like crap. I was sick at the end of last week, and was doing better, and now I feel like a truck ran me over. Yuck!
Here's to the Jetta, and being sick.
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