My dears, I leave for silence tomorrow and will be back in a week. But today I took in my car for repairs (3 thousand, ouch) and got the rental. I have to tell you, I once had a ginormous rental Buick that I was trying vainly to park while the lady in the house I was in front of was HAVING HER BABY. My student was standing in the road yelling for me to hurry up. That was a few years ago.
Yesterday I begged them to give me a small car, a cute car, not a mini-van or a monstro car so what do I get today? A Chrysler for pete's sake. A black one. It looks like a gangster car. It just needs a few bullet holes in the door. I didn't even think Chrysler was still in business. And the steering wheel is a bit sticky and smells like aftershave. Ew. It barely fit in the garage. And this to them is a small car.
So I have wheels to get me to the retreat center and back when my wee Honda Fit will be all better and drivable. And park-able.
Later in the day I got pulverized by Merlin, the nice massage therapist. I think he actually rearranged my back and neck muscles by removing them, throwing them on the floor, stomping on them and then putting them back in. Then my chiropractor did the crack/crick neck vertebra dance and she kindly helped me off the table so I could wobble to my, er, the rental behemoth.
O and no smoking or pets in the car. Sorry, Felix.