And when Emily gets mad, sometimes she refers to herself in the third person. But mostly she just swears a lot and stomps around.
I would like to detail the retarded little things which are building up to make me an angerball this weekend:
I have a list of errands to run today: smog check ($50, goddamn!), bank (money for smog check and vegetables), farmer's market, gas, post office to pick up the California income tax booklet. After doing these things, I plan on cooking and doing the California taxes by hand, because the online stuff is stupid because I didn't live here all year.
However, these things are all set aside until one other thing can happen: I need to get my parking brake down.
Kevin, when he drives me car like last night, which is sort of an irritating story of its own, sometimes sets the parking brake as high as it will go. I have never set it that high because I didn't realize it actually went that high. The maximum for me is something like two notches below that. And um, when he sets it that high, I can't unset it. It's physically impossible. The first time it happened, I was on my way to work and I had to drag him out of bed to unset it. You can imagine how bitchy I was about this.
So anyway, it's almost 11 a.m., the market closes at 1, and who the hell knows when the smog check place closes (I'm guessing 4). Kevin is, of course, still in bed, despite my shrieking at him. (Who doesn't love waking up to that shit?) So I have to wait and possibly cut out some of the planned errands.
The smog check must be done. I'm going into the DMV Tuesday morning and I have to have proof of insurance and a smog-happy certificate to show them before they'll let me give them an assload of cash in exchange for not getting pulled over for expired tags or something. Smog checks, from what I understand, should run around $30; everything I'm finding, even with coupons, even at test and repair stations (note for people who don't live here: those are supposed to be cheaper than the test onlies. This system is so ridiculous I can't stand it), is at least $40 and most places aren't open Sundays. One place I called answered the phone with fax sounds. So it's down to Mr. $50 Smog Check Place.
And then there's insurance. I hate my quotes. All of them. And the next person to ask me if I've checked Progressive gets a scowl. Because yes, I have, and their rates are the worst and their comparisons are useless. But I will buck up and slap down some money for something, I swear.
Yesterday it took three computers to convince TurboTax that a browser in existence was "compatible" with their software. But that was all done very quickly after that, so I'll live.
Oh, he's up. I'm out.