Dear car,
You can stay packed up for the night. I got the most important things out of you, but I'm just too tired to do it tonight. I totally just woke up at five in the morning, worked a six-hour shift, packed you up, drove two hours, pulled into church twenty minutes late straight from the highway, went home for all of thirty seconds to drop off the things that would totally get stolen out of my front seat, drove to campus and then hung out with my friends until nearly eleven at night. I've had a long day.
Also, I'm sorry that you smell like hookah smoke now. It was my first time going to a hookah lounge. I don't think it's my thing. It smelled nice in there for a while, and the couches were really comfy and I got to snuggle with the BOY for a long time, but I didn't smoke and afterwards, everything felt kind of grungy and smelled like cotton candy and tobacco. Not really my hang-out spot of choice.
Also also, that fixing of the ball joint? Did nothing for the noise. That's still there, whatever it is.
I promise I'll clean you out tomorrow. I just have to rearrange my room first so that I can put a desk in, whenever I get that. And vacuum. I need to do that too.
But for now, I want to sleep.
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