Wouldn't you know it? Here I was all rested and ready to tackle a new work week, but as soon as I backed out of the garage, and cracked the window open, I heard the muffled flapping sound of death. Sure enough, I had a flat tire. Must have been something I drove over on Friday, because I didn't even run any errands over the weekend.

Tried calling the Shell in Summit; they were open, but I just got the answering machine. Called DeFalco in Chatham next, and got their dispatcher. She at least thought to ask what kind of car I drive. Said someone would be over within 45 minutes, but it's been well over an hour by now. They're only half a mile up the road from me. Hopefully, I didn't get a nail through the sidewall. That happened once before, and these Michelins go for ~$325 each. That's what I get for having a car that can go 150 mph.

The worst part is that it looks really suspicious to my employer that this would happen on a Monday. "Excuses, excuses . . . we know you just wanted the day off." Steve's away on business, otherwise he could have given me a ride to the train station.

At least I have full office connectivity from home. Logged onto my office computer from here to send out the email from my office account, explaining the situation. Already got hold of Gary, my assistant, via IM this morning. He raced cars in college--still does--and had a part-time job at one point, repairing tires, among other grease monkey tasks. Oddly enough, he blew out his own car's engine Thursday night on the Belt Parkway. I don't know much about Long Island, but apparently, that particular highway has no place whatsoever to pull over, so he had to limp all the way home to Queens with his engine smoking. Poor kid. Now that's going to be an expensive repair!