This Halloween, I drove out about 150 miles to visit good friends for a wedding. On the way to the afterparty, literally moments after I got on the interstate, my engine died.
I spent the next two plus hours waiting for a tow truck, getting towed to a gas station garage, and then taking an uber to a hotel.

I was safe, one of the small pile of coats I had gathered for costuming was in my car so I had something to keep me warm and dry, and I had a luggage of overnight clothing since I'd planned to stay up for the weekend. Family and friends were a phone call away so I wasn't stranded.
But my car was dead.
I got the call around midday yesterday that they could fix my car- a catalytic converter had gone tits up. It would be between 1000 and 1500 depending on what needed done. I am fortunate enough that my lifestyle and income supported having a healthy "oh shit" fund to cover this. The shop knew I was far from home and stuck in a hotel, and the mechanic said he'd do what he could. So, I extended my stay for another day and night, and waited for his call. That evening he called to apologize- he thought he'd have been done an hour before, but the bolts were rusted and the repair was going to take more time.

So, by 10 am today, I'll know what the situation is .

I spent vacation days for this. I wanted a relaxed weekend without stress and without drama where I could go be there for people I love on their brightest day, maybe help another friend move from a bad place to a better one, maybe go to a theme park and enjoy a thrill or two.

I'm tired. I'm stressed. Hotel waffles are goddamn disgusting and a bottle of water is $2.12 because fuck you, Capitalism.

I need a goddamn hug.
I need my car back.
I need a do-over on this shitshow that my weekend turned into.