I was up at.. ugh... 7 a.m. this morning to drive to the desert office, where it was a breezy 110 degrees. I don't like mornings. I like them even less at 7 a.m.
On top of all this, I think there must be some weird cosmic thing going onlike the Moon must be in Uranus or somethingbecause there have been malfunctions.
On Friday, a faulty power supply in my computer at work fries my hard drive. Fortunately, I recognize the click of death fast enough to throw a USB drive on there and get my data off. This is the second time I've had a hard drive crash but get my data off right before it takes its last breath. I feel like Ponch on "CHiPs" when he gets out right before the car explodes. (Ever notice, the car always explodes?)
Yesterday, a few work/site-related problems crop up. The cosmic malfunction continues as I pump up my tires. The auto shutoff thingy that lets me set my desired tire pressure wasn't working for some reason. No biggie. But then as I'm driving to Del Taco for Taco Tuesday, listening to the 6 CDs on "Shuffle" I'd burned a couple days prior ," I hear "War All the Time" end after which "CD 5" appears in the display as it goes to pick a random song on CD 5. It's taking too long. It complains: "CD ERROR F0."
I pull over and proceed to EJECT the CD magazine. Clicky-Clicky-Clicky. Nothing. No ejection.
Long story short: CD magazine not coming out. I did contemplate performing surgery, but the car's still under warranty. Far be it for me to void it, so I had to resort to using a cassette adapter and my Rio. I'll be damned if I'm going to be a slave to Clear Channel's crappy programming!
Fast forward to 7 am this morning. I tell my boss that every time, without fail, that I drive to the desert, on the way back, the "Service Engine" light always comes on. Now there's some sort of recall on my car about this (some silliness about the Service Engine Soon light, possible engine shut off, blah blah). At least with something urgent like my CD changer breaking, I can finally get that recall taken care of while it's in there. About 5 minutes after I tell him this, the "Service Engine" light comes to life. I tell you, the car knows. I secretly suspect the lady in the navigation system is telling the car's computer where we're going, and the "Service Engine" light is its only cry of protest.
I have an appointment on Friday to take the car in.
These early mornings do not agree with me.
Now, please get the Moon of Uranus already. I don't need anything else to break.