Today was one of those whirlwind-everything-that-can-go-wrong-will-go-wrong kind of days.
It started with a big row with the Husb over who can even remember what. Then I was late to meet my sister who is visiting from Florida. My brand new cellphone was acting as if it were possessed, reminding me every ten minutes of messages that were NOT in my inbox!
And to top it all off, car trouble out of nowhere. Just as the car completely conked out, my incessantly beeping LG gives me what looks an awful lot like the blue screen of death before going completely dead as well.
After nearly two hours of waiting on my car, I decide to walk to a nearby grocery store for the only retail I could muster. Heartbroken over missing my bi-weekly romp to World Market to shop from my favorite selection of fabulously French and Spanish vino. I decided to compensate by seeking out any “exotic” or “ethnic” grocery offering I could find. It’s one of the big grocery chain stores and frankly my hopes were not high.
Low and behold like a beacon of British Wonder was a solitary bottle of delightful HP sauce. What better way to melt away a crummy day, than with a cold beer and the oh, so familiar taste of chips and HP.
… That is, of course, if I ever make it home.
The verdict: The mechanic never did figure out what was wrong with my car, but, miracle of miracles, it started anyway. There were a bazillion stops and starts, but I finally made it home. Luckily my deep fryer fired up without a hitch. And since the Husb likes chips and HP almost as much as I do, it went a long way in smoothing things over. Which is a good thing because I definitely needed his help silencing that crazy beeping cellphone!