Did I mention it’s almost time for another Mercury retrograde? July 2nd, but I’m already feeling it.
I told you about the road trip where my AC compressor went. My mechanic was supposed to fix it Tuesday, showed up but had the wrong bracket. Said he’d be back Wednesday. Called Wednesday, said another customer broke down, could he come today?
So he showed up today, fixed everything. It was more money than I thought, but I paid him, thanked him, and drove off. Jacked up the air.
It was blowing hot air. (We’re in the middle of a heat wave.)
Got the mechanic on the phone, he came back, checked it again. Something about a bad high pressure valve, yadda yadda yadda. Took the car, will get it back this weekend.
Jesus, what a crazy time the last few weeks were — probably more to do with the Sun-Mars opposition that’s exact today, associated with booms and explosions of all kinds.
On Thurday, a fucking blimp landed in my neighborhood. On Saturday, a transformer blew up underneath 30th St., our central train station. On Sunday, something blew up underneath one of the historic areas downtown and one man described his entire house lifting up and slamming down again.
And that’s just the most recent stuff.
Remember, there’s always a little flurry at the end of a retro. But it should start getting better!
As you may remember, I am wary of flat tires. I hate being stuck somewhere with a flat or, worse, a blowout. So maybe six weeks ago, I went to the garage around the corner to have someone look at a rear tire that looked low; I was taking a long road trip the next day. It was pretty cold out, and I could tell the mechanic didn’t want to take the tire off, but he examined it as best he could while it was still on the car and said he didn’t see anything. He filled it and advised me to keep an eye on it.
So this Monday morning, that same tire was dead flat. There was just enough air left for me to drive it to the garage, which I did. Then I walked home.
A few hours later, the garage owner called me back and said there was nothing wrong with the tire. I walked back to the garage and drove home. Of course, by yesterday morning, it was flat again.
So I called AAA, and they sent someone out to put on the spare. He was a chatty guy, and after he took off the tire, he pointed and said, “See that?” Not one, but two nails in my tire. Nails no one else ever spotted.
The neighborhood garage is terrible; I only go there when I need something simple (like fixing a flat tire). Now they can’t even do that right.
Also known to astrologers as the Uranus opposition, but what the hell do they know?
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