Monday, Jan. 27, 2003 - 2:17 p.m.
In an effort to further procrastinate at work, I present some highlights from the drive back from the homeland last night:
- My windshield washer fluid has become frozen in the reservoir, rendering my windshield washers useless. This usually wouldn't be too bad a problem, had it not been for the ungodly amounts of salt the highway department decided to unleash upon the roadways.
- I made my first stop just outside Bardstown to try my best to pour fresh washer fluid into the tank, then use the handle of my ice scraper to attempt to break free some of the ice at the bottom. The only thing I accomplished was cracking the little tube that goes to the tank. I'm so mechanically inclined, really.
- I proceeded to stop at the following two exits to use the complimentary squeegees at the gas stations to clear my windshiels. At the second stop, their squeegees were frozen in the little water buckets.
- I bought a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels to clear off my windshield.
- About twenty miles later, I had a grand plan to solve my dilemma. I rolled down my window (p.s., a ten-degree temperature reading feels EXTREMELY cold when the wind is rushing in the window at 70 mpg), took the Windex in my left hand, leaned out slightly, and tried to spray some on the windshield. I succeeded in covering my arm (oh yeah, I was wearing a t-shirt, too!) in Windex, which instantly turned into a vile, blue goo on my arm.
- Just as I was nearing Lexington, I got stuck behind a salt truck for about three miles, rendering my windshield opaque.
- I cleaned off the windshield one last time at the Shell station at the end of the Bluegrass Parkway, just outside the city limits. I ran into my former roommate, who looked quite relaxed after a cross-state trip in his girlfriend's new Honda Accord. I, on the other hand, looked like a crazed madman with a sticky blue arm.
So, that was the trip home. As God as my witness, I will never go anywhere without washer fluid again!
