operant conditioning

I would like to preface this story by saying that yesterday my coping skills were depleted after ferrying multiple gallons of gasoline, in a one gallon can, mind you, to my car at the behest of the tow-truck driver when I knew it was not out of gas. That was definitely not the problem even though he was convinced it was.

I punched my car. Or, rather, I struck it with the side of my closed fist in frustration, and now I have an awful bruise. It was not one of my finest moments.

I don't handle car problems very well. I never know what to do so I usually cry. I've never had a car that didn't break down everywhere. Everywhere.

I hate cars.

And this current car bullshit is the stress icing on the stress cake.

Blerg.

I would like the semester to be over, and I would like my car to work properly.

So if Jesus or whoever could get to work on that it would be fantastic.