Hockey is bad for you.
And I don't mean just the Montreal hockey riots.
Alright, I may be over-extrapolating.
My favourite troll will be happy to hear that, after all, the electrics of my car are not dying.
Y'see, the gas guage hasn't been working properly for six months now, and has been slightly dodgy since my trip down to Montreal in the winter, with aforementioned troll and three frenchies.
And since the gas tank had been recently replaced, it had to be the electric wiring failing to carry the signal.
Which meant that my eleven year old car (with the still in really great shape motor and surprising lack of rust despite dents) was becoming unreliable, and not give-awayable when I get my hands on a hybrid.
Except, Dave's got a few surprising friends, see.
One of them is named Shep. Who is the sort of nice that you don't find so often in the cities these days.
And Shep came over to figure out why Dave's car engine light was perpetually on, and figured he'd have a look at my gas guage too.
SO he did.
He lifted up the back seat, just like we had right before that trip to Montreal when Seb had thought he'd lost his pendant under the seat.
He pulled out a hockey puck that had been living in my car since the Gemplus hockey team days, that had fallen in and was in the way of the wires he needed to pluck at.
He plucked at the wires, unkinking them (why is everything I do by sheer force of nature kinky?!?) from the weight of the dislodged hockey puck.
We turned on the car.
The gas guage adjusted itself for the first time in two months.
I gave him the puck as a souvenir, since obviously the universe does not intend for me to play hockey ever again.
Heh.
Proof positive that I am not meant to own things, when the most ridiculous circumstances cause them to malfunction.
But the good news is that the car is in really great shape, and I can stop worrying about it being dangerous to both passengers and pedestrians for a while longer.
And what with the engine having been half-re-outfitted in the last few years...
Troll, baby? You get that driver's license right now. This here beige monstrosity is a great fucking car.
And in other news, we're still working from home this week and my workload has risen to levels that are swiftly driving myself and all those who cross my angry little path, crazy. Not only does one of my bosses figure that I have ALL THIS TIME to focus on his prjects, but the other boss has decided that I'm the person to contact in the event of any emergencies, which are a-plenty, and just dealing with those is a fourteen hour a day job.
Me, stressed?
Just a little. And no livers to tear out with my bare hands at home, except beloved's so I'm SOL there too.
*sigh*