I Knew I Was In Trouble When I Got to the Gas Station Without a Screwdriver and Other Tales of Recent Woes
Well, not exactly recent "woes" because that sounds so self-pitying and whiny. Now, to be honest, I can be self-pitying and whiny, but desire NOT to be. So, let me clarify: woes should be characterized as "hardships." Sounds more biblical, huh? So, onto the screwdriver part. Our newer used car Tim and I recently purchased I call the "Wannabe Lexus Camry" because it has fancy Lexus hubcaps but is a dented and scratched up 12 year-old Camry. It had very low mileage and we were thrilled with the deal we got. We needed the car to save gas and wear and tear on our almost 9 year-old Suburban and because Elena will be driving independently soon. So, I made the painful discovery several weeks back that the lever next to the driver's seat does NOT open up the gas tank door and neither do my keys jammed into it. I needed a screwdriver to jam the door open. I had put one in my car, but couldn't find it and forgot about it beside...