More recently I have been dealing with the saga that is my crashed car. Two weeks ago, I smashed my car up but good on the ramp to 270. Outside of my crashing, everything else went wonderfully. The cop was awesome and didn't give me a ticket, I didn't get hurt at all, and the towing guy tried his best not to screw me over.
Since then I have been riding buses, bumming rides, and riding bums to get where I need to go. All was well in the world of carlessness, and I had my poor beat up vehicle resting in the parking lot of my apartment complex. A mysterious green patch appeared on my car then: dated 10/16/09, it gave me ten days to get my car the eff out of there. Then things went awry.
This morning, 10/20/09, I woke up with a list and a smile. First I'll drop off mail and cash my check, thought I, and then I'll do artwork or some semblance thereof! Upon stepping into the beautiful fall day that it certainly is today, I noticed my car was missing. Apparently, Essington Village doesn't give ten day notices, they just put stickers for 24 hour notices that say 10 days on them.