W.T.F. or...why me?

I have yet another cold (just had one a month ago) kicking my butt all over the place. I decided to head into work for a couple hours this morning. I had a class today and although I had another trainer scheduled to be there, I had some new things I wanted to show them. I was up all night and we were all running late this morning. I flew out the door (no, I didn't lock myself out) and started driving. No, I didn't blow out two tires or hit a deer. I was thinking about my class today and some other meetings I am involved in--and again, I have enough mucus in my head to fill a swimming pool--and completely passed my exit. It wasn't like as I was passing it I realized it...no, I had to be on a bridge way past the point of no return to realize, um, where am I and where am I going?! I got off at the next exit available and turned to get back on the highway. I thought I heard a pop or something as I turned, so I turned the radio off to listen. We JUST had the van in on Saturday to have some work done and $600 later I was feeling like I should be in ship shop shape. Until a red light started flashing and beeping that would startle the poop out of you (or maybe just me) ensued. The light said, "oil pressure low" or aka "stop the shit now or I'll drop your engine right out from under you!" Obviously I pulled over. Hmm...do you smell that? That kinda burney smell? Yes, burney is a word. I made it up today. It's going to be all the rage. Luckily I have not one, but two bosses to call and explain that not only am I a dumbass who spaced out at the wheel (because the first question is always "where are you?") but also that I am going to be a bit late to work today. And hopefully all those perfectly perky teachers who left an unsuspecting substitute in their room will be understanding enough about my situation. Also, did the other trainer show up? While that got sorted out I was on the phone with my Allstate Motor Club (Kyle loves it when I say Motor Club old lady style--according to him) who says, "nope. If you are on the highway or the exit ramp to the highway we can't getcha. You need a special permit. That's Marty's towing, but I don't have his number."

um, thanks?

"But here's the thruway authority number, they can help you."

Yes, except first they disconnected me and then second they--for some unknown reason--couldn't understand EXIT RAMP. I did finally get picked up and my van did get cleaned up and fixed.

Says the Mgr of the place we took it BACK to after having JUST HAD AN OIL CHANGE, " I've never seen anything like it. No oil filter, but it was there because you have driven 200 miles since we had your van in."

Hmmm...AND he didn't charge me a thing. Interesting. So I got all super sleuthy (yes, a word...now) and went back to the scene of the crime. Low and behold there was my *&(*& oil filter on the side of the road. I have never seen one before and imagined it to look like my reusable coffee filter. But it doesn't. This one is similar to mine but was full of stinky, dirty oil. But I picked it up anyway and put it in my van. Evidence! Except I just realized it says "racing development". I do not race the mini van. Not anymore, anyway.

The Mgr still holds to "you better watch who's messing around with your car" and I'm thinking, "yeah,YOU buddy". And that concludes another driving with Miss Mel. I never set out to be so entertaining. Howeva...

I did hear this song on the radio that apparently everyone who's anyone has seen on YouTube (but not me, so maybe not you either?)