On insult + injury

Okay, so there are plenty of things that'll take the "relaxing" out of a relaxing weekend, and I'm sure everyone has her own, but I don't know that there's ever been a comprehensive list compiled. I thought I'd start with a few of my own:

- Packing for river floating, then sitting inside all day watching Hurricane Rita's little sisters make angry, red-splotchy faces at you from the Weather Channel.
- Watching someone you dearly love cry, and knowing that there isn't one single goddamned thing you can do to make it even a little bit better.
- Having every intention of leaving responsibly Sunday night, only to spend the evening sitting on the floor of the shower as three - count 'em, three - tornadoes skip merrily over the house (although with three smart women and plenty of booze, this can be entertaining, if not relaxing).
- Driving two and a half hours, in the rain, behind a freaking house on a flatbed, only to get to Talladega, fill up the tank with gas and discover that, whoopsy, your wallet is still back in Northport. Then convincing the gas station to accept a check without ID (and thank you, God, that they did), driving back to Northport, pausing long enough to collect said wallet and take a pee, and then driving all the way back to Atlanta for a total of eight uninterrupted hours in the car.
- Getting up like a good girl for your morning run, only to discover that, in addition to a window that doesn't go up when you tell it, a trunk that doesn't latch when you tell it, an ignition that doesn't turn when you tell it, and a mass airflow sensor that doesn't... sense mass airflow when you tell it, you're the proud new owner of a door that doesn't open when you tell it. Spending the rest of the day climbing in and out of your window like the Dukes of Hazzard until you can save enough money to fix the car or buy one that isn't entirely made out of toilet paper and water. (I'm thinking of maybe silk-screening a French flag on the cloth top and calling my car the "General Malaise.")
- Knowing that the cost of enough bourbon to fill a bathtub would put you way behind on fixing the door.
- For serious, AngryKevin. For serious. For serious.
- For serious.