As I was getting ready for work, some little nagging voice in my head told me to check the car. It's not that I constantly have voices in my head, and if I did, I don't always listen to them. But this was the voice of intuition, telling me that because I haven't driven my car all week, and it has just sat in the garage, perhaps I should check to make sure that it was good to go for the commute.
With 30 minutes until I usually leave for work, I went out the garage and inspected the car. Sure enough, I had a flat tire.
Intuition is a pretty good thing.
I called Mom and asked if Mr. Recommendation could bring his air tank over when he got home so I could air up the tire. Shortly after 6pm, Mom called to propose I just take her car to work. She hasn't been released by her doctor to drive, and I have been shuttling her around in Lil Red (her Jeep) all week (hence the no-driving of the PT).
So, I brought Lil Red to work. Truth be told, I've grown quite spoiled driving Lil Red. Automatic starter, four-wheel drive in the snow, sitting high enough to see all that lay before me on the road. And, it's red. Bright red.
I've been wanting a new car, and leaning towards something with four-wheel drive, but I won't make a move towards acquiring said new car until later next year. There's some bills I'd like to pay off first. Namely, the high credit card bill I racked up on vacation.
I'm still not feeling the Christmas mood, even after shopping all week with Mom. I'm having a family dinner the weekend after Christmas (due to working the entire holiday), and I wonder if the visiting children will be confused because there is no evidence of Christmas in my house. I've heard it muttered that Christmas is for kids, and so I wonder if that really is true. I miss that feeling that there was some sort of magic in the air of December.
On a much happier note, I brought some of my island coffee to work. Tonight's round of the fragrant brew comes to us from the Cayman islands. Smells like Kona, but it's not. The bag says it's rum-flavored, but it doesn't taste rummy either. It's just tasty. I'm also eager to sample the coffee I brought back from Jamaica, and maybe that coffee I may or may not have smuggled back with me that may or may not have come from Cuba.
I love coffee. I hate the embargo.