My hands become sweaty. My heart races. Tremors of fear wrack my frame. Paranoia begins to rear it's ugly head in the most dire imaginings.
If I don't get the car back today, I will be 4 days more without wheels, as the shop is closed for the 4-day holiday weekend. If I don't get the car back today, I will run out of cat food and Kili will start to gnaw on ME, like those pug dogs did to their dead owner, except I will be alive. EATEN ALIVE BY OWN CATS - film at 11.
(actually, I am hopeful that the mini-mart at the Shell station has cat food and I might could walk up there for some.)
I hate being car-less. I hate having to impose on co-worker D for a ride to and from the office. It's out of his way, and I feel like a terrible, terrible leech.
And there is a blizzard due.
Good thing I don't have a dog, I'm probably broadcasting fear pheremones like crazy.