Whatafreak – The Blog

Guess what.

Tonight, while I was at work, some asshole(s) broke into my car and stole my backpack.

The asshole(s) tried accessing the interior of my car through the sunroof first, but when that didn’t work out they just broke one of the rear side windows. They didn’t take the cd player and they didn’t take the amplifier. Only my backpack.

There is only one conclusion.

They knew what was in my backpack: my laptop computer.

I didn’t call the police and I didn’t tell the doorman that I left with at work tonight. What’s the point? I would just be out there for hours and nothing would ever come of it. Pick up the glass? Who the fuck cares? I just pounded my fist a couple times on the now-bent sunroof to get it to close a bit and then drove off knowing that I was still going to have to deal with the engine overheating on the drive home.

It is taking me a long time to write this blog entry due mostly to the fact that my hands are shaking so much from anger that I am forced to type each word 3 times before I get it right. The fact that I can barely see can be attributed to how livid I am and does not help my typing speed get better.

My conclusion: God doesn’t want me to have nice things or even decent things for that matter.

I am now waiting for the moment this new lcd monitor breaks. I predict it will rupture rather than short out. This should send a vast amount of liquid at my computer causing it to short out and cease operation. Don’t be surprised when you see that post here detailing the occurrance. It will be typed from my brother’s computer, of course. I only hope I am not in front of it when it happens to explode…

I realized tonight that I have no idea how to handle a compliment. Not just any compliment either, the ones that I speak of are directed at me.

That’s right folks, someone complimented me. My first reaction was to call bull. After I had done that, I came up with an alternate version of the compliment that didn’t involve someone complimenting me. Then, when that was refuted, I ran out of things to say. That doesn’t happen to me often, and when it does, it is usually after I have had plenty to say, before my retort reserves have dried up.

I was thinking, why am I not able to handle a kind word tossed in my direction?

I dunno.

I don’t like compliments. They make me feel uncomfortable. Witty, sarcastic remarks have no place here, and that leaves me with no ability to communicate verbally.

Drove my car tonight, somehow it still manages to overheat driving directly into 35 degree, 25 mph winds. I know the stupid thing has coolant in it, I checked only yesterday. The coolant tank is half full, where it should be.

Okay, maybe the pump is dead, it’s not moving the coolant around. Possible, yet unlikely. Sometimes the car runs just fine, no overheating issues at all. That temp gauge hovering exactly where it used to when it ran its best.

I hate this car. And yet, I love it. I want this car to be cool, to be fun. It is semi-fast, nimble, and it has ample space for long-legged freaks like me.

It’s so embarrasing when I have to try to keep the car moving in order for it to not overheat and I get stuck at a traffic light. Roller-coaster idle for all to hear and mock. Meanwhile, I am watching the temp needle zip right past the red marks in the temp gauge into unmarked territory, praying to God that it doesn’t explode right there while stopped at the intersection of Falls and Blue Lakes Blvd.

I need a car that doesn’t overheat in below-freezing temperatures and could get me to Boise if I so needed.

My curent setup meets neither of these objectives.