OK, the car really acted up now. On the way back from work I wanted to take side streets so that the Check Engine light wouldn't go on. Unfortunately it went on anyway. Worse, I had real trouble accelerating the car -- I mean, really bad trouble, really, really bad trouble. This wasn't in my head. Shifting through the gears was well nigh impossible, and I was stepping my foot on the gas pedal. It was really frustrating, even humiliating to see all these cars zip by me while they were only doing the speed limit, then see the car behind me that couldn't help tailgate finally have the next lane clear in order to get around me. I had a really hard time getting up to speed all the way home. Now maybe it was the weather; this was the first real humid workday of the summer, and maybe my car's reacting to that. But now I'm deathly afraid that it's going to happen again tomorrow, and that in fact it's going to be how it's acting until I have the chance to get it fixed, which, because of the cycle of my maxed-out credit card, probably is a couple weeks away. Will my car make it that long?
I get home and receive the results of a phone call I had with my alumni contact at my alma mater. I'm hosting this party this weekend and I'd started to get exasperated because I needed a head count so I could figure out how far into the club's coffers I'd need to feed this party. Well, the initial roster is way, way, way more than I thought it'd be. Great. So now I need to basically double/blow my budget for a party that everybody and their money seems to be attending. I'm low on funds everywhere; now I have to worry about the club's, too?
Because of the car and the party, I do what I usually do when I panic: Look at Internet porn and masturbate. And I did -- twice. And it doesn't help. A temporary moment of (self-)pleasure, then you realize that your problems are still there, dammit.
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