**That stands for "Sorry-Ass Tiny-Little First World Problems"

Dear Friends,

First of all, your extreme kindness has touched my heart. I am still a little shaky from Monday night; those of you who have had this happen before will understand what I mean.

However, life goes on, and solo pastors don't ordinarily get "mental health breaks" for this type of thing. Nor do Moms. Nor do drivers of cars, apparently.

Which segues quite nicely into my SATLFWP for this week: My car. I'm not making this up. Yes, I know I have treated my car badly, and it fought back by needing jump starts. I did the responsible thing, though, and took my car in to be serviced. If my car was a woman, it would have had what can be called a spa day yesterday; it got the works. Three uncomfortable hours later, after being subjected to not only "Good Morning America", but also "Regis and Kelly" and "The View" (Can I just say that Elisabeth Hasslebeck needs to either grow up or get slapped? Dissing Cindy Sheehan on national television. My ass.)

So, after three hours, the service writer comes out and announces that my car is "All better!". I ask what was done and was told the battery and alternator were replaced.

Now...the car is 1.5 years old, and under full warranty still. I'm thinking that this doesn't add up, since I've never heard of a new car needing these things replaced. I mentioned to him that I thought it a little unusual that a new car needs these things replaced so soon, and did he agree? His first reply was "Oh don't worry Mrs Cheese, there's no charge for today because of your bumper-to bumper-warranty."

"Well, Wayne, that wasn't really what I was asking you. I was asking you how often brand new Elantras need new batteries and alternators."

"Oh, it happens." said Wayne.

And then he did it.

He gave me the "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, M'am" cock of the eyebrow

Guess what, Wayne? I went to start my car this morning, and it was deader than a doornail. Hmmm...maybe my pretty little head was on to something.

So, gentle readers, I get to spend another wasted afternoon sitting in the waiting room of the dealer's service shop. Gee, maybe today I'll get to watch Dr. Phil.

This is not helping me feel better.

But did you notice I did a link for the first time? Yay for me. I'm totally circa-2003 now.