swearing, battery, swim

I ran out of swear words last night.

Now, much like the father in A Christmas Story, I know how to swear. I'm good at it, I practice, and I'm always careful to stretch first.

But last night, I exhausted my lexicon. I was reduced to a repetitive and stammering mess.

The reason? My car. It wouldn't start when I tried to leave work yesterday - so I called my room-mate to come and jumpstart it. That was enough to get me home - it needed to be re-jumped to get me to AutoZone. I left my car running and locked and with an extra key in my pocket I headed in to get a new battery.

I had to wait in line at the counter why a young mother explained to the clerk how she would have been in the demolition derby last year, only she got pregnant. Her husband went instead and lost a tooth - the clerk suggested that he should have played hockey instead and saved the car.

Such wit!

In my mind, their heads both exploded but in reality, I just waited quietly until it was my turn and made my very heavy purchase.

Back home, my room-mate and I removed the old battery - and faced off against some intense corrosion and increasingly stripped bolts. Hence the swearing.

We finally got the old battery out of there and easily installed the new one. My car started up like a charm and today I'm going to take the old battery back to AutoZone and maybe see about getting the alternator checked - just to be sure.

In other news... I swam 28 laps yesterday. I think I'm getting a little faster again.

Got to go to a meeting now... later...