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Somehow I got the foolish idea that going to wash my car and getting gas would be fun.
Something, maybe it was the foaming brush that smelled like a rotten french fry fart, or the machine that didn't warn me my time was running out, so I had to deposit $2 just to finish rinsing one side of my car, or the vacuum with no suction (after I deposited a dollar in it), or the $30 it cost for a half tank of gas, or the guy who decided to stop in the middle of Pershing Ave so he could talk to the car in the left lane, or the school children who think the street is their personal sidewalk...At least one of these things made the whole experience not fun.
The good news is that I'm getting a B in a class I thought I was doing not-so-well in. Hoorah!
Something, maybe it was the foaming brush that smelled like a rotten french fry fart, or the machine that didn't warn me my time was running out, so I had to deposit $2 just to finish rinsing one side of my car, or the vacuum with no suction (after I deposited a dollar in it), or the $30 it cost for a half tank of gas, or the guy who decided to stop in the middle of Pershing Ave so he could talk to the car in the left lane, or the school children who think the street is their personal sidewalk...At least one of these things made the whole experience not fun.
The good news is that I'm getting a B in a class I thought I was doing not-so-well in. Hoorah!
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