It’s a stereotypical Monday. It’s spring break, and dreary outdoors. Something went wrong with the clutch work I had done on my car last week, so the morning’s events have included getting stranded in the Meijer parking lot when my car simply would not go into gear.
Fortunately, one of the few phone numbers I have memorized is that of Fischer Honda, where I take Pi for service, so I called them from the pay phone; they sent a tow, set up a rental and I was back home by 10 AM. They handled my emergency beautifully, and I won’t be charged for anything except the replacement of the worn clutch plate, which is still pretty costly. They were all so nice and efficient, which is exactly why I keep going out to Ypsilanti for service when the Ann Arbor dealership is only two miles from my home.
The rental is a cute zippy little 2007 Nissan Sentra, but my driveway was blocked when I got home. The roofers. I had completely forgotten that they were due today. There are a small flock of roofers busily climbing about over the house, not unlike cartoonish gnomes, so I parked the rental on the other side of the house. We’ll have to double check for roofing nails before we use our driveway again.
So I’m making an attempt to maintain some semblance of productivity, despite the hammering and crashing and general chaos all around the house. But today is a remarkably good example of why I don’t like Mondays.