I think somebody keyed my car. It doesn’t have too many, but these little scratches have appeared, some of which look very much like it was keyed. I hate not being able to do anything about that. I want to strangle or beat up or somehow retaliate against the person who did it, but there’s nothing I can do except move the car to a safer place, or into the garage, or underneath a car cover, or something.
I feel like my whole body has been run through a giant shredder. I had an early dinner last night because I knew I was going to work on the car. I helped Daniel out for a little bit, got home, had a snack while watching Friends, and then loaded up the truck and headed home. I got to my parents’ house around 8:30, and by 10:45 the engine in the blue car was completely removed and hanging from the hoist over the driveway. Felt good to have that done, all the more so since I did it all myself, but my body paid the price of my determination. I was just in the zone, as it were, and didn’t notice all the stress I was putting on myself. So I got home, already a mass of soreness, and then decided to run, even though my tank was on empty. I made it about two miles before coming back, returned all the tools and also the truck to their respective locations, did some stretches and my ab exercises, took a hot, hot shower, and headed to bed. I was already in such a state that the feel of the sheets and the pillow was an absolute revelation. I was like I had never laid down in a bed before–amazing. I came into work today around 10, feeling very, very groggy, half-baked, stiff and sore. I’ll take it easy this evening, get some good sleep, and hopefully will be better tomorrow.
Gosh, I hope so. I’m insane; I know.