I don’t know what it is, but I’m beginning to take it personally. I think nails hate me. Yes, nails – roofing nails, regular wood nails, all those different sharp, pointy pieces of metal that are meant to hold things together. They hate me.
Let me back up. I have a great little car – a Saturn Ion. Her name is Squishy (ala Dorrie and the jellyfish from Finding Nemo) and I love it. However, Friday at rush hour, I got flat while driving on a really busy express way. In Michigan, the speed limit is 70, which means that people typically go 75-85, myself included. I never really realized how scary-fast that is until I was standing on the side of the road watching the traffic scream by.
My jack had never been used before so the ratchet end didn’t want to pop out, but a liberal application of sunscreen and a hammer cleared that right up. My sister and my kids were with me and Cait (cause she’s awesome) started changing the tire…only, I’d just recently gotten the tires rotated and the bolts had been machined on a little too tightly…which meant I had to call the hubby. He came, changed the tire and was all around fabulous.
Cait, while tossing the flat in the trunk, pointed out the giant nail sticking out of the tire and I swore. A lot. This was the fifth nail to puncture one of my tires in the last two years. Seriously, I know people who’ve gone a lifetime never getting a nail in a tire. Maybe I’m just being pissy, but it seems like a lot.
I spent my Saturday at the tire place (Thank God I had the new Suzanne Brockmann book) waiting for them to either fix or replace the flat and I found out that it was not the fifth nail…it was the sixth. Yes indeed, embedded in my other front tire was another five inch long nail. Luckily, that one managed to stay inflated long enough to make it to the tire place.
So I’m annoyed at the seemingly overabundance of nails that have found their way into my tires. Is there some cosmic lesson that I’m supposed to learn from this (other than don’t drive over nails – which, for the record, I don’t do knowingly) Cait insists it’s my magnetic personality, but somehow, I kinda doubt it.
12 thoughts on “Magnetic Personality?”
I caught a nail in the tire in my own driveway! Can’t for the life of me figure that one out.>>You always find such appropriate pictures to put with your blog posts. Where do you find them?
I’m with Cait on this one. Consider the wrist watch phenomenon and the other electric type things you do. You’re a homing beacon for the mentally insane and all things pointy-metal. But I still love ya. Could be cause I was a screw in my last life. Heh. heh heh.
I kinda think it’s where you live.
egad. *wincing* methinks someone in your area must be doing some building and dropping nails along the way to and fro. no?>>sunscreen, though? *makes mental note* hey, whatever works.
You have an Ion that is magneticly charged to attracted nails? Perhaps you could do something to reverse the magnetic field so it repels them instead.
Ahem, I have four brand new tires because hubby insisted I have them before my major roadtrip next month. Awww. No, really, he’s pseudo psychic, so I heed his advice.>Dearest, stop haunting construction sites looking for free lumber for your craft projects. That will cure your nail problem.>Lee, Press on Nails (couldn’t resist)
Ah… somebody sticking it to ya?>>Seriously, lady be careful! That’s a scary thing to have happen.
I’m in favor of the magnetic fields. Some people just seem to have them. But yeah, construction in the are could be a contributing factor.
You attract nails and crazies.
Don’t you just hate that? Knock on wood, its been awhile since nails and my tires have collided.
Just stopped by to say, hey bud.
Boy, does this remind me when I got a flat tire once because of a nail and DH blamed me because he said I took a bad route to work. Right after that, my boss’s DH got mad at her for the same reason when she got a flat. Men – don’t you love ’em?