grumpy and bitchy, but aren't they the same thing?

So it's 9:30 and I'm not at work. Why? Because my fucking car hates me. I went to H-E-B last night to buy some cheese, facon, and beer (so I could have a nice little dinner before going to Rock-N-Roll Karaoke at Beerland), and when I got back to my car, my key wouldn't go all the way in to the ignition. Now, I've had this problem before, and it was usually resolved in around less than five minutes.

But not last night.

No, I tried and tried for about 30 minutes to get my key in, noticing to not apply too much pressure as I didn't want said key to get stuck and/or break off. Luckily, Leanne was on her way to Austin to have dinner with Mark, and they dropped by to try and help me with my frustration. It didn't work, so we went to dinner and decided to try again after. And they key still didn't work. I swear, I felt like that is how it must be when someone sees a guy with a ginormous cock and says to him "That ain't going near any one of my orifices."

I finally called Ford Roadside Assistance (because it's free), and about AN HOUR (and several confusing phone calls from the dispatch) later, the tow truck arrived. That was about 11:30 p.m. This all started at 7:30 p.m. So by then, I was pretty fucking agitated/freaked out/wanting to cry. And then I foudn out we couldn't tow to the fucking dealership, so we had to tow it back to my place, and if you've been to my place, you know it's not very tow-truck friendly. It was a fucking disaster.

It was hard for me to get to sleep last night, too, because I was wondering what the fuck was wrong with my car. And I didn't know where the dealership was that they were taking it to. And I didn't know how I would get to said dealership tomorrow/today.

I finally got to sleep around 2 a.m., and then got a call at 8:30 telling me the tow truck was on its way. So the tow truck got here around 9, and left around 9:15. So now all I have to do is wait for the call from the dealership to tell me what the fuck is wrong with my car and how much money I'm going to have to make by having sex for money to pay this off. I just have a very, very bad feeling about all this. And I know it's bad and I shouldn't say it because of my former "problem," but I could really use some heroin right now. But since I don't want to go down that fucking road again, I'll settle for some daytime TV. Price is Right is on in about 15 minutes. Bob Barker can satiate me. I hope. Gah. I'll give a Zooey update when I find out more.