"...I think I could like you...if you let me drive your car..."

 

 

I had a trip planned- especially so that I could write a blog post about it.

Surely, that is a bit lonesome-that my incentive would be about putting a brave face to the world?  But I was interested, an open day at a historic building I am curious to see inside.  But alas I was thwarted in more ways than one.

But no one would know that was what I was doing, unless I mentioned it- and I only am because my plans were dashed.

 

Apparently our car does not need a new fuel filter- but it definitely needs something done to the fuel system.  What is left? A fuel regulator and a fuel pump.

Isn't that interesting?

So my great plans that dealt with Christmas, making sure there was food in the house, and the rearranging of the house have all been stalled by the Jeep's third trip to the mechanic (who I trust and adore by the way-sometimes machines break and it is hard to chase down what is wrong).

 

I could have rallied- I could have brought up holiday decorations, I could have walked to the grocery store, today, the first solidly warm day in about a months time.

But I didn't.

I ate cheap flavored ice (think otter-pop if you are an American), and salads from the garden (seriously that is an apt example of my eating habits: condensed as much as they can be condensed- sugar-raw vegetables-more sugar-(think wine or beer)-tofu-).

I also read an entire book, a Zombie book if you want to know- recommended by a friend of a friend.  I thought about eighty-pages in, that the main character better die or the book had no redeeming qualities.  She did die, but unfortunately not until the very end.

Here is the rub- Why is the premise that society completely collapses under the Apocalypse?  Why do all the smart and educated people die off first?

Honestly?   Wouldn't there be a mix just as there is now?  I was very perplexed by the authors choice of language- bad grammar mixed with sort of random, archaic words.

Also, are there Zombie (of the modern times not you know Haitian/Voodoo Zombie mythology) stories outside of America and perhaps England (28 days that is English isn't it)?

Because it is always about 1980s vinyl, junk food and how people miss picnics.

Seriously? Picnics?? Because I can't remember getting anyone to a picnic (with the exception of a few Easters) unless it was a boy that I was still "dating".

Also what is the real turnover of products-in places like Wal-Mart because why is it 15 years on after some collapse and yet all that stuff is still left?

 

So here you have it, a record of December 1st, when I worked on my tan, ate trash and read trash.  I just thought there should be a document that couldn't be glossed over.