Livin' On A Spare
I am not having much luck with Viggo, my car, and my work parking garage.
Two nights ago I came out to a nearly empty garage to find one of my tires to be flat. Groan.
I should have known too. For a few days I had heard squealing of my tires (tire. singular. as it turns out) and deep down I know I needed to check the air pressure. Had I only followed through, I would have noticed it. And for weeks I've been getting shitty gas mileage.
The tire does not look damaged in anyway. No nail in it. No gash in the side or anything, though the cap where the air goes in is missing. I am out of town for the next few days and cannot get it repaired immediately so I'm driving around on a spare.
And that spare is so not a comfort. Besides not being full-sized, I just worry about 'what if I get another flat before I get the real tire fixed?'. Or worse - what if the spare just falls off while I'm driving.
My parents would be thrilled I think this way - but it is no way to live!