What a way to start the week.

Monday morning I rolled out of bed elated with the realization that for the first time in 9 days, I felt ok. I wasn't coughing my lungs up, I wasn't dripping with sickness. I wasn't great...but I could finally go to work. I jumped in the shower, threw on a nice outfit, and gingerly put on my coat, hat, mittens, scarf, and boots. I chuckled to myself as I walked to my car thinking -4 degrees doesn't even feel cold. Take this "winter".

Oops! What's that? I need some gas? No problem. I'm running early! A stop at the gas station is totally doable. I drive 8 blocks to the gas station, hop out of my car, and realize that my little gas door is frozen shut. Oh silly gas door. You're no match for me. I go back to the car and grab my window scraper to pry the door open. Except there's this thickly-accented guy yelling something through the loudspeaker from inside of the station. And he KEEPS SHOUTING "Something, something, lady, something! HEY LADY something something something!" Why is he yelling on this brisk, beautiful Monday?

Turns out, my tire was flat. So unbelievably flat.

I started calling boys. Finally, one answered and said he would come to my rescue, taking his comrade along to assist. While I waited, contemplating what to do and whether to move the car, not one, but two buttons popped off my coat, leaving one measly button the incredibly important task of holding closed my coat on the coldest day of the year. And that "lightly brisk" air that wasn't bothering me before quickly started producing a piercing, burning cold numbing my entire body. The men did their job, and they did it well, but we soon realized the spare they put on my car was very low on air. We went to not one, but two air pumps before we realized they are all frozen. It was too cold...for even a pump...to pump air.

They led me to the nearest mechanic, and as I was shakily driving my car there the windows started to fill with a heavy, thick fog. This never happens to me because obviously I have the heat/defrost going every time I drive in the cold. But of course...for the first time in my life...the heat wasn't working. Nothing. Not even a mere puff of air. Phenomenal!

This meant the guys at the shop wanted to keep the car for the day, in order to fix the first tire and the spare, put the old tire back on, check out the heat, and perform a maintenance test. I was expecting to be able to drive to work on the spare, so as I left the shop dumbfounded with my luck and intimidated by the 9 block walk I had to even get back to my house, the waterworks started flowing. Facing -4 degree weather, no car, and feet so numb I was convinced I had no feet, I cried.

In an ultimate display of altruism, my friends brought me back to their house and gave me coffee and company while I mashed my body up against their kitchen heater, practically seizuring from the cold. And then my friend drove me to work. The mechanics later called to tell me the tires were fixed and the heater was working fine - it was just too cold that morning to work. They also caught a taillight that was out and fixed that too, not even charging me that much for it, even though they could have (because what do I know about stupid cars?). And finally, all was well.

I would like to dedicate this tale to anyone who knows how to change a tire. You are the true heroes, my friends. You...are...just...so...........yes!