Oh, This Is Just Fan-fucking-tastic, Isn't It?

Running late - again - this morning, I rushed out the door and decided that I had to drive or I'd be super evil late, not just sort of late. I actually got into my car, shut the door, and started the engine before I realized that something was amiss. When I proceeded to check for cars, errant children, or devil cats, I realized that I couldn't see the street.

So I got out of the car and kind of just stared at it for a while. What the fuck? What's the next step? Who do I call? Can I drive like this, or am I staring down another ticket? (Oh, yeah - I got a $50 parking ticket on Tuesday for being parked in front of my house during street maintenance at which they did nothing but clean the street. Clean the street? You douchenuts can't be fucked to plow two feet of snow off of my street in January, but you can ticket me for being in the way of sprayed water? SUCK IT, CITY.)

All of a sudden, Neighbor Bob comes shuffling outside in his slippers, apologizing. Backing into his driveway last night, something he's done for Lord knows how many years, he heard a distinct "pop!" and realized that he'd maimed my little red plastic car.

And I? Don't really care. I think that it's hilarious.

We hot-glued it back into position, and I am trying to be careful to avoid extremely bumpy areas of streets. I can't wait for it to fall off when I'm on the expressway or something.