Got up early this morning, so we could tow the car to the garage. That was an interesting experience, in morning rush and school run traffic. Crowds of mothers trying to thrust their small children in front of the car as though they were trying to grease the wheels or something. NOT fun.
Phil was very upset to realise that, to top everything else off, last night someone took a screwdriver to his formerly-pristine just-purchased Jag, prised up the fuel cover, and smashed the holding for the gas cap. Small dent, paint damaged, lock broken. And all petrol suctioned out, of course. What the hell is wrong with people? Now I suppose we’ll have to look for a garage to rent, as the car is very noticeable on our street, and will be an easy target. My car is a piece of crap, which I suppose is a blessing. :(
In times like this, I really feel the distance between us. We’re so divided, so separate, that we can barely talk, let alone reach out to each other. It makes me sad, but there is no repairing what is wrong between us.