I ran over my computer with my car.
Yesterday, I was going to put some groceries in the trunk, with my computer, and jet. Discovery: keys still inside.
I leave everything right there, behind the car, and run inside to get the car keys.
So, instead of doing the smart thing, and putting everything into the trunk, I completely space out. I hop into the driver’s seat. I start to pull out.
*CRASH* *GRIND* *SMOOSH*
I stop the car after a mere foot or two, and casually walk around to the back as if I was the cat that had meant to fall into the toilet. I dove underneath the car – thankfully, everything was in between the two wheels, so nothing got >rolled on< – and pulled the computer and groceries out from beneath my car.
The computer still works, I think. It isn’t over-heating. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t need a new one. I >always< need a new computer. I actually started to only buy used computers because they break just as quickly as the new ones and cost half as much.
I am most displeased that my custom, wicked sweet messenger bag commemorating my book – designed by the lovely and talented Roxanne Conrad whom you might know better as author Rachel Caine – now has these nasty black smudges from where it ground agains the undercarriage.
Everyone, you know you hear your mother in the back of your head right now. She’s standing with her hands on her hips. She’s looking down on you with a very stern, unsurprised look of patience that shrouds the rage and disappointment within.
She’s saying “This is why we can’t have nice things!”