I thought about deleting the incoherent mess-of-a-blog below...
However, I decided to let it remain.
For 48 hours my mind had the consistency of a scrambled egg drenched in Tabasco sauce. My car was broken and I'm convinced the reasoning portion of my brain was locked in the glove-box.
For 2 days I couldn't locate the answers to the most pedestrian of questions...
Carl (The car whisperer at the BP service station): "What's your phone number?"
Heather: "Um...404...no wait...402...that's Omaha right? (Nervous laughter) I'm sorry...402...68102...wait..."
I am now back to my normal level of dysfunction...
Rock on...
;-)
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