Pulling out of the dive

The new car is still delightful. I went to Lowe's tonight to get more water filters and a new faucet for the kitchen sink (the one Nancy installed leaks like a sieve and looks like crap because it's mostly plastic), and I felt like I should buy something large, like... I don't know... kitchen cabinets or something, just so I had an excuse to fold the seats down and indulge in the enormity of its wagon-ness. But instead I got the filters, the faucet and a bunch of tulip and hyacinth bulbs I'll plant this weekend.

This week's Ineffectualness Award goes to whatever towing company Allstate uses. They were supposed to pick up the dead Saab Monday. Didn't come, because they "couldn't reach me on the phone," never mind that that wasn't necessary. They were supposed to come Tuesday... didn't show up. They were supposed to come today, and... didn't show up. I got home with Giselle, the Volvo P1800 I'd driven to the VW dealer, and sure enough, there the Saab was.

In other news, I am a moron. When I put the new filter element in the water filter I installed a while back, I suddenly realized the whole unit was in backwards. I had prudently installed it using screw-on fittings, so it was just a matter of undoing those unions and flipping it the other way. I wasn't going to tell anybody. Oh, well.

I've pulled out of the depressive stage I was in. It's odd how that works... maybe it was buying the car, maybe it's that the weather's been good, maybe it's women, I just don't know. But things seem happier, the world seems nicer, women are prettier, the colors on the mountain are better. Damn this depression stuff! I wouldn't mind it vanishing tomorrow, or possibly next week.

I have a second date coming up with the tall blonde lady from Rockville. I might not have mentioned her, but I'll say more about her if it looks like there'll be a third date. She's very... appealing.