Last Word?

So today was an eventful day. Besides the seemingly unavoidable stress associated with every Monday, today was going to be a busy one for me from the outset. I was to go to our weekly staff meeting, then quickly scoot out and head across town to campus for a follow-up meeting with some folks from the school psych program for a feature piece I'm writing for Madison Magazine. After a quick lunch, I had another meeting set up with biotechnology prof Bob McKown, a pioneering researcher on the eye protein lacritin, for a follow-up piece on a Madison Scholar story from a few years ago. That's a pretty full day for me.

Of course, fate threw me a curveball Saturday night. Sunday morning, after I'd had my morning cup and consumed my weekly rations of George Stephanopoulos and Charles Osgood, I was going to run to the store to get a few items. I hopped in my car and began to back out when I felt a slight drag on my front tires. I though I was just running over some chunky gravel and would be past it in a second. Then I heard an unsettling fffwump-fffwump. I knew I wouldn't be heading to the store quite yet.

I got out, looked and saw my front driver's-side tire, more deflated than the 401-Ks of Bernie Madoff's investors. Not knowing anything about cars, I called Greg to have him come look at it and see if it was repairable. (Clarification: I can change a tire and could have on my own, but thought I'd consult Greg first to see if we thought it was patchable or totally shot.) He and Sarah were heading to Costco to pick up a new sectional sofa anyway, so they stopped by and picked me up. We got back later, and after changing the tire, noticed a giant screw sticking out of the offending tire. A relief, indeed. It appeared easily patchable.

I left the spare on until this morning, when I got up a little early and headed to Midas before work. I dropped the bad tire off, pointing out the screw, and got assurances from the mechanic that he could patch it and I could pick it up later in the day. Good thing, because, as I mentioned, I had some driving around campus to do. About 15 minutes after arriving at work, I got a call on my cell, and I knew I was dunfer. It was the mechanic, and he said the tire had been patched once before and that the screw had not even fully punctured the tire. Basically, the tire was shot, and I needed a new one. So I decided to pony up for two brand-spankin' new ones. What began as a routine, $35 procedure wound up costing me nigh $300. At least maybe I'm spurring the economy.

Fortunately, our staff meeting was canceled, leaving me a little time to head back to the shop before my 10:30. I got over there and they went to work. I think. I couldn't really tell, you know they always keep you in the waiting room while they go into the garage. Again, what began as a routine, 35-minute procedure wound up costing me nigh an hour. Add another 20 minutes driving around the Miller Hall/Rockingham Memorial Hospital part of town trying to find a parking spot, and I was a whopping 45 minutes late to the meeting. Luckily, it was an informal and non-necessary meeting in the first place, and they welcomed we with a large "kitchen sink" cookie. The rest of the day was fine, with me getting a quick lunch at home, arriving early for my next meeting, getting about 100 pages worth of literature on lacritin research to read, and heading home at 3:30 for a massive nap.

The short point of this long post is the interesting horoscope I read in the DNR while waiting at Midas (authored by Eugenia Last). It read:

CANCER (June 21-July 22): You'll be faced with money issues due to unexpected expenses. You can overcome any stress by being fully prepared to make a leap from one way of earning money to another or by adding a second job to your plans for the upcoming months.

Pretty spot on, considering that I've been pondering whether to finally bite the bullet and try to find some work selling suits, soccer balls, shih tzus or some other department store delight. So what do you think, does Eugenia really have the Last word here?