All about cars

I love my car. It's just a little golf cart of a thing. I call her Midge (for Midget), which is horribly politically incorrect, but apt. She's a bright shiny blue with tons of room on the inside, and neato little spaces for cups and stuff. I love her.

Adam is buying a new car and asked to borrow Midge for the week. I trust him, and I have no problem with him driving my car. It'll be harder for him to get a ticket because she doesn't go that fast (he drives a sports car). He sold his car tonight, and asked me over im if he could pick her up tonight. He and I talked yesterday about going tomorrow, so I wasn't expecting it today. I told him I would have to call my mom, and he got all pissy. "All she has to do is give me the freaking keys, right?" Well, yeah, but you're putting her out for a week. You're inconveniencing someone. Have a little more respect for others.

I don't know. Then when I told him it was all sorted out he didn't reply to my im. So I just signed off. Screw him. If he's going to be grumpy, he can be grumpy to someone else. I'm not in the mood for it.

I've been hiding anyway. I haven't been here, or on Facebook, or Twitter. I haven't really been picking up the phone. I've just been at the store and in my bed. I know, healthy. I need to get out tomorrow and do something. I was invited to a party but I canceled it in order to drive Adam to the dealership. And now we're not going. Yeah, rude.