So, my plans for the work I was going to do this afternoon have fallen through, due to the systems I needed to access being locked off. Blah.
Ah well, instead then I will tell you a story.
Flash back to last Saturday, hubby was playing golf and needed to be dropped off at the Ferry, at the Ungodly hour of 6.00am. As it is a half hour drive from home to the ferry we catch everyday and I had other things to do in town that day, i got dressed in what i wanted to wear for the rest of the day, meaning i had to get up at 4.30am on a saturday. YUCK
Dropped hubby off, grabbed a coffee at the ferry terminal and went back into town (a 15min -ish - drive) to go to the markets for fresh vegies and fruit, by then though, it was only 7.00am. And nothing was open.
Thankfully though, ONE cafe was opening as i wandered around wasting time until the markets opened, so a cup of tea and a fruit salad for breakfast sounded like a great way to waste 1/2 an hour - luckily i has also stashed a book in my bag - just in case.
UNTIL - the footy team turned up. Bleh - I really don't think anyone needs to be subjected to sitting next to a table of still mostly drunk rugby players talling up last nights efforts (golden shower anyone - Oh. my. god. Get me outofhere!)Scoffing down the remains of my breakfast, i hurried off.
Now what to do? By a stroke of luck, I had recharged the credit on my mobile phone the previous day, so i thought to myself, "Who do i know is crazy and stupid enough to be awake at this time on a saturday?" MUM! - Sadly though, she didn't answer, plan B,
MR.D! (obviously this isn't his real name but there are further stories and a HUGE back catelogue, so I won't mention his real name - just in case)
Now, Mr.D has a freaky metabolism and terrible insomnia, which allows him to stay awake almost 3 days straight and then sleep around 8 hours,- he also works nights- so chances are, he was awake.
turns out though, he was asleep. whoops. But it was great to speak to him. I havent seen Mr.D for around 4 years and I miss him terribly.
I spoke to Mr.D while getting my vegies and emerged at the car-park in shock, my brake lights were on! Someone was trying to steal my car!! - or so i thought, turns out, even though it was in "park" and the park brake was on, the lights turned off and the key in my bag - nowhere near the ignition, the brake lights stayed on, no matter what i did.
Having other things to do, i said goodbye to Mr.D and got back into my possessed car.
I drove around, running errands, had lunch with a girlfriend and STILL the lights stayed on. Grrr.
Having done what i needed to do, I went home for a few hours awaiting the drunken request from hubby to come and collect him from the ferry terminal.
Tick Tock - the hours passed.
Late that afternoon, I got the call i had been awaiting. I assured hubby that i was leaving now and would see him soon BUT
THE GODDAMN CAR WOULD NOT START
You guessed it, the battery was dead flat.
CRAP.
You see, we live IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, no public transport, Nothing.
i had to find some way of starting the car. Whatever it took.
Luckily, my hubbies car was in the drive, unfortunately though, it was at the far end of the drive, and i can't drive a manual.
So, for the better part of 20 mins, i tried to PUSH my car down the drive so the jump-leads would reach. Good idea in theory, except for the mound of crusher dust that on my lonesome i was unable to push the car over.
Then i thought, it's only a few feet, surely i could move hubbies car a bit closer.
NOT A GOOD IDEA
lucky his car is TOUGH and has a bull bar - as i neatly inserted it through the fence. woops.
Just as I was about to give up and swallow the $70 cab trip for him to catch a taxi home, my neighbour
The Saint arrived home, and after we managed to together (yey team work) push my car withinn reach for the jump leads, we realized the battery was well and truly FLAT (sad, stressed face goes here)
Again, my neighbour prooved his Saintlyness (it is so a real word) and offered to let me drive his car. This goes to show how great he is, i would NEVER have done that, but he said he had a party to get ready for and it would be fine.
Terrified that I would crash his car, I drove carefully to collect hubby, until i realized i was pulling a Top-Gear, i.e critiquing the car - seems for all its problems and as frustrated as it makes me, i really do enjoy driving my own car, and it drives remarkable well. for any car. The Saint's car is a reletively new popular australian 6 cylinder and mine is a 20 year old japanese sports car. Point. Made.
Hubby poured into car, off we go.
Home again.
And they all lived happily ever after etc etc
My car is now fixed - until something else breaks, but I remain grateful to The Saint.
