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I have finished another quarter of my Masters’ Degree in English! Go me! 15 hours down, 18 to go. Oh, and my evil plans are flourishing in the realm of Literature scholarship. But before I talk about that, let me tell you about my day…
Today was absolutely horrible. It started out okay, though. I woke up and studied for my finals while eating Cheerios™ and telling my pet bird to be quiet. I am terrible at memorization, but I swear, by the time I left the house, I had all the Brontë children’s birth orders all sorted out. Again, I swear.
So I get in my tiny car and head towards Ruston, LA. Fortunately, I was an hour early. Why fortunately, you may ask? Because I was hardly outside of West Monroe city limits when an alarming buppita-thwapthwapthwap noise attacked the rear driver’s side of my Mazda Miata. As far as I know, Miatas are not supposed to go “buppita-thwapthwapthwap,” and because I knew for certain that my rear tires were older than rear tires have any right to be, I had a suspicion as to the cause. I pulled over and phoned for help, and a good thing too, because while the Miata comes equipped with a cute little toy jack and spare donut tire, it does not come with a cute little toy tire iron to go with it. Or perhaps it did, in 1991, when the car was made. I have no evidence one way or the other.
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