And to start the weekend...

...my car went poop. Or rather, pee, but basically what I'm saying is that it is a crap-hole and it effing died.

Here's the skinny:

So last weekend, my car started heating up a li'l. Like as in almost freakin incinerating itself. Turns out, my antifreeze thingy was empty. Excuse me, I've never bought antifreeze in my life. Don't cars just come equipped for eternity with that stuff? Apparently not.

Dear hubby poured water in the little container under the hood and brought my baby back to life. And ever'thang was fine. Until yesterday.

On my way home from work, the car started climbing on the temp gauge again. I'm thinking, hells bells, what now? And then my engine started doing something a little funky, knocking around, clanging a bit. I'm pretty sure that's all bad news right there. I pull over about 2 miles from the house, call Jerry and tell him to bring water.

Okay, now I'm boring myself. Still with me, people? Long story short, the water he poured in went right through the car and down to the asphalt. A little pee-pee on the road, if you will. Fab.

Kia had to come down from Joplin (30 miles away in Missouri) and tow it away this morning. All I have to say about that is THANK GOD for road-side assistance and a damn good warranty.

Now, here's the good news: I am driving Jerry's parent's SUV. It is old. And cranky. And loud as hell. The motor was just a whirring away and I'm thinking, dang I need to slow down. Then I look at the speedometer and I'm going freakin 25. Seriously. If it wasn't so aggravating (you know, when I'm trying to get somewhere in a hurry), it'd be flippin hilarious.

But right now ... not so much.

Til' Monday, my dear lovelies.