Highway to Hell
I hate my car.
I hate my car.
I hate my car.
I hate my car.
I hate my car.

Turns out, it wasn't the gas. I don't know what it is yet, but the bastard died again on me on the way home. On the highway. In a construction zone. With no shoulders. Dallasites, I was going on 75 south under the High Five, where it's down to two lanes and there are concrete barriers on both sides. And my car died. By the way, it's really hot in Texas right now. And people don't like you when you're blocking traffic.

Some Hispanic guys were kind enough to push me for approximately a mile (or more) to where the road began to have a shoulder (so that I could pull over). I gave them all of the money in my purse, which was probably only about $14, but I would have given them $200 if I had it. The Courtesy Patrol stopped by after a while to check on me, and they gave me some cold water. God bless the guys that pushed my car and the Courtesy Patrol! After an hour and a half - no exaggeration - the tow truck finally arrived. Right now my car is in the shop, and I'm waiting to see what's wrong. Cross you fingers that it's minor. I swear, I have got to get a new car soon. Anyone have several thousand dollars they're not using?