I'm always trying to fix things in my life.
My car, my finances, my computer, my love life - the list goes on. I decided just the other day to repair my relationship with my lower abs. We've kept in touch but I've just not seen them in six months.
I spent almost all of last summer trying to fix my hellish relationship with No. 6.
As an aside, it would have been nice if she told me that it was not only broken but that she had already given parts to three other drivers (whom I don't think have seen any of their abs in decades; of course, it's not just about looks, to their credit they're also dull as rock soup).
Sorry, I'm just snarky because I've got a drip that's driving me mad.
Point is, fixing is different than building. It's been a while since I've been able to build. This spring I'm building things with old friends and new.
One such thing I've built, well, it's getting there.
It's getting there.
But for now, oh man, where's that #@$@#$ wrench?
Music: Sunlight on my face I wake up and yeah, I'm alive