A Dark Snark Diary Dialogue

Dear Diary,

     SERIOUSLY?  What the hell else can go wrong?

     Last week, Diary, was the week for things to break down.  First a fuel pump, then some module thing on the truck.  The part for it must be coming by covered wagon from California because it isn't here yet.  The garage door springs broke and then the computer monitor took a crap.

     This morning, eight papers into a 33 papers paper route, the car shot craps.  It didn't sputter, whine, cough, spit or sigh, it just quit.  The lights were still working and the engine would try to turn over and nothing, I got nothing.  Yes, Dear Diary, there was plenty of fuel in it.  

     This happened in the worst possible place, right at the top of a crest of a hill.  I put it in neutral and coasted backwards until I thought it would be safe from people who are late for work and take this particular street to zip around the outskirts of town, trying to make up for lost time.

     My only saving grace was the fact that I was two blocks from our old business where my husband keeps his work vehicle, which happens to be an old school bus.  The short bus.

     I grabbed my sack of papers and plodded up the hill in my knee high rubber boots and made the trek to the bus barn.  I gave some thought to finishing my route in the bus and then decided that was just too weird.  

     I headed home to get the only other mode of transportation that is still running, the Burb.  You know Diary, the 1985 poop brown Suburban that is 30 foot long and has a freakin' snow plow hooked on the front of it.  After a brief tutorial with my naked shaving husband I was able to get the snow plow lifted off the ground and away I went to finish my route, with the snow plow bobbing like a cork on a pond and clanging with every pot hole.

     My constituents were wondering what had happened to me and I politely explained my car situation.  What I really wanted to do was cry, cuss, jump up and down and scream that I'd had enough!  

     Really Diary, I don't think I can take anymore.  Is the universe totally against me or trying to tell me something?

     So Diary, if you know of anything else wicked this way coming, SHOVE IT!  Put it in your pipe and smoke it because I don't want anymore more of it!

     Have a nice freakin' day.