Hurry up, driver!

I am gettin a little nervous because Mr. John is supposed to be here to bring me to the scary delivery truck!

I don't have a car.

Well, that's a lie. I have that white ford from the 1980s...the one with the breaks that don't work. Yay! I'm saved.

(sarcasm)

Oh dear oh dear oh dear. John hurry up! You left at quarter to 4 for your interview, and no interview I know of takes three hours. Where are you?

(I have to resort to brain waves via online since we do not own a cell phone)

Hmm...I suppose I could ATTEMPT taking the white car? I mean, we use it every now and again carefully. What I was really hoping for is that I would start typing this entry and then, half-way thru, I could be like, "OH! John's home now! WHEW!"

But he's not! No rescue. Sometimes I wish I could be one of those busy city girls with shiny new cars and papers flying everywhere and places to go (and ways to get there).

Last time I checked there weren't any subways or bus stops outside my house. I better talk to the county highway department. Who thinks I have stalled long enough? Is John driving somewhere worrying about getting home, as in "Oh no! Mellie has to be downtown in 10 minutes, and I'm not there! Oh I shouldn't have stopped for coffee! I KNEW I'd run into someone there!"

HURRY UP JOHN.

IF IF IF he gets home (and I'm not too mad at him), we might be going to see a band tonight. HURRY HURRY HURRY! I'm going to quite typing now.