Working Wednesday, August 31, 2022 August 31, 2022 ~ Jenny Sorry, I was working and lost track of time . . . and day. Also, what the hell happened to August? It just started a minute ago. So what did you do during the fifteen minutes it was August?
63 thoughts on “Working Wednesday, August 31, 2022”
Lol. I kept refreshing my browser yesterday, looking for working Wednesday…. Except it was Tuesday.
I will quote from the texts I sent to people last night begging them to stop bothering me about plans for the weekend: “I have spent the entire night singing, dancing, screaming and running. I do not have brain space to figure out logistics tonight.” Which is to say, it’s the week before tech week in Beauty and the Beast where we start running things in order.
I keep ripping out and redoing the same sweater all over again, a friend was all “Do you actually want to finish it?” Good point. It’s Safire on Ravelry, a pattern that came out Too Big at my proper size, so the advice there was to make it in extra small, and now I have to adjust that for DD boobs and making the sleeves the right size.
I did something regarding my job situation this week, but since that probably won’t work out either (see below) I won’t say because if I talk about my hopes, they go to hell and everything is jinxed and I look fucking stupid because I talked about my hopes.
I haven’t updated about the crush, but it was the worst news ever: while on the date, another couple we ran into (with our same names) asked if we wanted to double date, and he was *absolutely horrified* at the idea and literally *pointed* to make his point, “WE ARE JUST FRIENDS, YOU ARE MARRIED.” All these years of him seemingly more affectionate with me than other people and NOPE. I no longer want to be around him after this. I will be polite as long as the show is running, but after that, fuck him, I will no longer speak to him after that, which shall be fine since this is our last show together and when we are not in shows together he won’t notice the fucking difference. We have only spoken briefly once since then and otherwise I am avoiding him. He may be avoiding me too since he seems to have finally picked up on “us hanging around together makes people think we care about each other” and doesn’t sit nearby me any more on his own (not that I want him to at this point), so fuck him again.
I am really disappointed and angry. Why can’t life work out like fiction? Why did I get six billion signs and synchronicities about this one for years if they meant nothing and were never going to pan out? Like seriously I would not have gotten so attached had I not been having all the damn signs going off around me like every few days for years. I had really, really good stories about these and now they will never pan out. Goddamn it.
Why am I doomed to be unwanted and alone forever? I’m so pissed off that it’s never going to work out, I’m never meeting anyone else I could like (I’m literally hitting the bars these days, nothing, and I can’t stand online dating so nope to that), and I’m going to be alone forever when I don’t want to be. So I am working on accepting that there’s no hope for me. I’m 44, plain and weird. Nobody’s gonna want this. Hell, *I* don’t even want this.
Sorry for the sad final update on the miniseries, but there it is. 🙁
Well, what a tool. Spend no more time or energy on him.
I wish I had better words for you. I’m good with weird, but I’m not in your desired sector.
Take care of yourself, and keep on singing. NOBODY looks stupid because they have hopes, they look brave and open to life and possibilities.
Jennifer – 44 is not too old (and no one is too weird – you just need to find someone who revels in your weird.) I got married at 54 for the first, and probably only time.
Be yourself, be kind to yourself and do your thing.
Maybe you need the clean break from hanging around the wrong person so you can be more open and ready for the right one.
Most times you’ve mentioned Crush, it seems to have been in an unhappy context, so I’m cheering you on for deciding that he’s consistently causing more pain than joy in your life, and that he is therefore not worth your time/effort.
This is just the early part of the rom com, while you’re still dealing with the crummy stuff, and finally ditching the game-player so you can move on to the better stuff and the meat of your story.
The right one and the good stuff is out there, and I believe it will come around for you, Jennifer.
Be kind to yourself. You’re just firmly closing a door on the nightmare closet so you can open a window to fresh possibilities.
My SIL dated a lot and went through This Is The One a bunch of times, when nope. It wasn’t. She even became engaged a few times, but decided he wasn’t the love she wanted and she was just settling because she didn’t want to live her life alone. She probably didn’t have a single date for five years. But she had a great group of friends that she went on vacation with and to the theater and movies. She bought a house with her savings. She said this was the only life she had so she needed to live as happily as she could. Then she met someone who was just the love she had wanted and waited for. She was 55. They have been married for 23 years now.
The point of this isn’t to say “Don’t give up hope” it is to say she made a great life for herself since she couldn’t count on someone else to provide the happy ever after. She used to say that statistically speaking she was more likely to be in a plane wreak then to get married so she better come up with a different game plan. And it seems to me you are doing your best to do the same thing. You have friends, the theater, hobbies. This loser is the only flaw in your life. Whenever you decide to forget him, he suddenly becomes more accessible and reels you back. He does not want to totally cut you out of his life because you make him feel good and you are the friend he has a life with while he is waiting for his “happy ever after”. Well, to hell with that. You deserve more from life then to be a place holder.
Absolutely don’t give up. But definitely take some time to cleanse your palate and then…come back with a whole new approach. Which won’t be evident right now. Needs that cleansed palate.
I love that your SIL chose to live her best life. I think that is very good advice.
More often than not romcoms and fiction show our main character at a low point in their lives and then finding someone helps them did their way out. While this is admittedly a more interesting story than two well adjusted people dating and figuring out life together, it’s maybe not so accurate?
Certainly no one wanted to be around me during my hot mess period. And honestly I wasn’t ready to be anything approaching a good partner.
You are selling yourself short. You are obviously a fun, supportive friend or he would not have been staying around wanting to maintain a friendship. Go be a warm, supportive friend to someone else. Maybe that is your key to expanding your social circle.
I think there are people who like being wanted and play what I call “stay away a little closer “ where they send (maybe unconsciously) signals to keep someone interested without ever having interest in a real relationship and I have always wondered if that was the crush.
I feel bad for you, Jennifer. But I think you’re better off without this boy — I’ve always felt vibes that he is gay but denying it from your descriptions of him. The vehemence of his response to those people sounds to me like fear — fear of what their expectations might be, fear of what it might mean about him, or some such thing. He had been feeling safe with you, but it sounds like he wanted it to be and stay very “theater friends” rather than anything else.
If there have always been things you enjoyed about him, fine, but my question is — are you enjoying those same things in yourself? Are you into being Jennifer enough? I think one of our main tasks in life is figuring out who exactly we are, and BEING that “who” with full intention and satisfaction.
You’re you, and neither age nor appearance are really important qualities of a person’s insides. I know you’re involved in the world of theater, where one can pretend to be something & someone else over and over again, but being your best you involves self-awareness, self-acceptance, and a kind of honesty about what’s really important to you, with a minimum of theatrics. When you focus on those things, and appreciate the things you like in other people without the burden of hope or expectations, you can connect really differently with people. I think you’d feel (and be) less alone if you started off differently, because your center would be different, and feel different to other people.
(Just an older person’s viewpoint, so take it or leave it.) Hope things get better for you!
In my mother’s words “You’re too good for him, let him go before he wastes any more of
Jennifer, I’m so sorry this is causing you so much pain. I think it’s possible from the way you have described this person in the past that they could be asexual, aromantic, or both. I’m both, and it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I will never experience romantic attraction for myself. I used to try to force it before I had fully figured it out, which is not uncommon and can lead to confusion and disappointment for the friends we invest with the value other people apply to their partners. For someone like me, friendships are as deep and important as romantic relationships are for other people, but I am always very clear that things will only ever be platonic. Someone who hasn’t figured themselves out or accepted that part of themselves might not be able to communicate that effectively, or they might sincerely WANT to want to be with someone and be frustrated by their inability to do that. If this is what’s happening, it’s probably hurting him that he’s hurting you and unable to be honest with you (and possibly himself) about why. If not, he’s a complete dick. Either way, I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this.
I don’t want to sound unsympathetic, because I am not, but in the long run it really doesn’t matter why he treats you this way. What matters is that for the last 2 years or more you have made excuses for his behavior in your mind and told yourself that you understood him better than everyone who told you what you didn’t want to hear about the relationship.
I agree with everyone here who says that you are worth more and that doing things on your own and with non-romantic friends will help you remember what is really important to you. But I also think that working with a therapist will help you identify the thoughts and situations that lead you into the spiral of desperation that leads you into thinking that there is “no hope for you” because you aren’t married at 44.
My Mom’s best friend had a history of marrying bad husbands (one of them twice) She was smart, funny, talented and good looking. She was also extremely competent as an office manager and accountant for a medical practice. But none of that mattered in the face of her belief that that didn’t rate as highly as being “charming”.
Once she decided to leave to get divorced and find a better job, she met the love of her life in a parking garage of her new apartment building. But she had to believe that it was better to take a chance on being lonely, than to settle for something far less than the whole package.
Honey, if every woman who’d ever wasted years on the wrong guy leaned right, the planet would fall over. I have sympathy for you, but stop assuming it’s your fault. I figure it’s my fault that I had such lousy taste in men that I kept choosing losers, but not my fault that they were dickheads.
Oh, and word of warning: He’ll be back. They always come back. Because they’re dickheads.
And because she is, indeed, wonderful.
I’m very sorry, Jennifer.
At some point though you might see the one positive thing: it’s finally clear how the situation is.
No more wasting emotions and energy around this guy.
Also I agree with all of the others: concentrate on living your best life with yourself.
Enjoy cameraderie, connect with friends.
Do what you love.
Be weird to the fullest.
No one is “just” plain.
Reading romances at this point may not be the best medicine right now because it tells us we need a significant other it hardly ever works out like that on real life.
One often easily feels deficient afterwards. But that’s crap.
You are fine as you are.
Feeling anything but stands in the way of living happily.
Plus feeling to need someone to feel complete very often seems to act like negative magneticism.
If you haven’t read Sark’s Succulent Wild Woman, I recommend it. Otherwise, you are a unique, exciting, talented, lovely person. When you find the one who can appreciate your uniqueness, it will be beautiful. Let that jerk go. They were not the one. And it sounds like they led you on, which is unforgivable.
This week is kind of topsy turvy. I did a little prep work for my quilt retreat (leaving tomorrow), but spent most of the weekend helping DH with tasks on his ever increasing LOTTBDBC*. We managed to cross 4 off – including try to figure out what was rustling around the attic (mice).
While I was driving to get lunch on Saturday, the check engine light in the car went off. I found off that for my car, if the CE light is flashing, it’s bad news – pull over immediately. But if it is just on, it could be a myriad of things. Mine turns out to be a catalytic converter issue – a not inexpensive repair. I’m hopeful to get the car back this afternoon so I can get to my quilt retreat!
In my spare time I did put the binding on a smallish quilt I quilted a few weeks ago. It was one of my UFO (Un-Finished Object) that I’d put away after putting together. Some of the pieces didn’t match to my satisfaction and in my disappointment, I refused to finish. But, time passes – and I’d rather have it done and imperfect than have it wait around even more. If I give it to someone who loves it, then it won’t be a WOMBAT (Waste of Money Batting and Time). Scratch one more UFO off my list.
*LOTTBDBC – List Of Tasks To Be Done Before Christmas.
found out for my car, not found off.
And I forgot the link to my little WOMBAT
It looks okay from afar – whether from a galloping horse or a speeding car – just don’t look too closely.
Nancy – it is beautiful. You say it is not perfect, but, not perfect makes the best quilt to cosy under, to have a nap and dream dreams .
It looks pretty good from this stationary horse.
It is still great and those small imperfections make it more unique. It will carry exactly as much love to whoever you give it to as if it had met your exacting standards. I even joined Instagram after they booted me off for some unknown reason just so I could see it.
Nancy, I’m always in awe what a quilting genius you are.
This quilt looks very fine to me – I like imperfections, though I cannot spot from “afar”.
I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. Just remember that all emotions are temporary.
Also, you may hate apps, but those suckers work! If you want to feel desirable, and it sounds as though you could use the external validation, just get on one. You will have a ridiculous number of matches in no time. Hopefully that will help you realize that just because one man doesn’t recognize your value doesn’t mean it won’t be apparent to others. My quirkiest friends have gotten some of the best dates through dating apps. Hinge seems to get the best reviews from my friends overall.
You are wonderful as you are.
That was meant to be in response to Jennifer!
I’m having a grumpy consultant day where I’m having to put together an inexplicable level of detail for a client to explain what the work looks like that they cannot do themselves and do not know how to do. They’re basically in the mode of: “How difficult can be this be? I bet my mother could do it in her spare time.” Which makes me want to say FINE DO IT YOURSELF I WILL EAT POPCORN WATCHING YOU FAIL.
Thank you for listening. I feel perhaps slightly less cranky.
If anyone actually says that, get their mother’s number and call her. I bet she could use a good laugh.
This is a popular refrain at art or crafts shows too. I don’t know why people feel compelled to say it out load, with a somewhat derogatory tone.
Could you do/make this? Maybe. Will you? Almost assuredly not. And if you did it would look different.
I am sorry that people are being extra peoply to you today.
You’re right – people say the same thing about a painting I’ve had since 2001 – it’s a 6’x12′ (so large) red painting – with tones of other colours underneath. Everyone likes to look at it and say: “I could have painted this for you! (chortle chortle)”. I actually do say to them: “Well you didn’t. So I paid $2,000 for it instead. Sorry you lost out.”
Good on your. And they absolutely could not do it for you. To paraphrase Julia Child, simple is not easy.
Seriously, that’s why we have all the diy gone wrong memes. Grrrr. People need to talk less. Give their brains time to catch up.
See, the proof that I am an artist (no matter how little I get done) is that other people’s work does not make me want to make something _like_ that thing, but makes me itch to make something _different._ The more I like the Thing the more it inspires me, but not to imitation.
I think that it is a learning curve thing for some people. You copy to figure out how it works. But I wouldn’t then call it my work.
And maybe this happens more in craft than in art? I used to display jewelry on old books and earrings on playing cards, for example. Something about using a recognized object seems to spur people on.
See, now I want to make earrings (a favorite of mine—they’re so small) out of playing cards….
I get this, too, from people not in the industry. “It’s a romance novel, how hard could it be to write one of those?” Try it, asshole.
_Work = Force x Distance_ I had a net vector displacement (distance) of Zero: Ergo, I did no work. Isn’t physics a cheerful subject?
I did stuff. I was nice to the dotter and her kinder. I provide them with Too Many Unhealthy Snacks and bottles of Fanta (orange and strawberry). The dotter does Keto so she avoids all that. For her, I provide Juicy Fruit Sugar-free Gum… in bulk. 🙂
I’ve eaten all my Romaine lettuce in salads, plus any other lettuce mature enough to harvest. I’ll be harvesting Romaine from the Ranches, soon. In the meantime, I bought a head of iceberg lettuce to make do. Harvesting Romaine left Seble plantless, so I emptied her, washed her with vinegar, disassembled the top to get the impossible-to-reach places, rinsed and refilled her, added plant food, and put in two mini-jalapeno pods.
While I was out, I bought a hothouse tent (four trays). I changed my mind when everyone pointed out that the deer and critters that roam our neighborhood would eat it. I took it back. Before I left the house, the dotter mentioned taking the kinder to Water Country today. So with my refund, I bought a 12-can cooler, stocked it with Fanta and frozen shipping packs, and left it in the car overnight. I hope they were still cold. 🙂
I just got a package in the mail containing my Retirement Certificate, dated January 1, 2022. Timely.
Oh, good grief! All the Harvests (Harvey, Harvey Too, Seble and Teresa) are flashing the red FMS* alarm. I checked and yes, it’s been a fortnight since the last alarm, about which I shot ten seconds of video and blogged. I guess I’d better deal with it.
* Feed Me, Seymour!!! form Little Shop of Horrors
The dotter is back from Water Country. She did not open the cooler, did not find the drinks nor the freezer packs nor the gum – she figured (since we did not see one another before she left) “oh, dad left his lunchbox in the car” and moved it to the trunk, unopened. *grumble, sigh*
August, er, planted 4 more trees and have 8 more on the way, yes that’s a lot but in my defense they’re very small. Hellebore and a couple of other nice annuals joining the garden shortly due to the fall planting planned in August. Lots of general catch-up, trying to get house/yard/life in shape for the school year. School work area organized for youngest. A couple of day trips to get outdoors and explore. REALLY not ready for August to be done and school back in session. I guess the theme for August was get organized, including clearing out the attic, go us.
The sun came out again, so I’ve been doing bits of gardening, here and at the allotment – including the major job of cutting the hedge, which had grown 3 or 4 feet since the spring, and barrowing the prunings home to put them in my and my neighbour’s green waste bins, since they were too woody for me to compost. In between I’ve been sitting reading under my lemon yellow umbrella. Felt better today, so am hoping to get more done this next week.
I finished the holiday novella and sent it to the freelance editor, and started on a new proposal for a mystery series that I think isn’t quite so off the beaten path as some others I’ve done. But who knows?
Mostly I’ve been distracted by a medical journal article that I think bodes ill for the future of access to expensive treatment for all disorders, not just mine. It advocates for the treating doctor (not the insurer’s doc!) to decide if the pediatric patient’s symptoms are severe enough to justify the expense of the new, state-of-the-art treatment. They’ve been saying forever (quite wrongly) that adults aren’t suffering enough to get any treatment whatsoever, and now they’re saying that the treatment that’s barely better than nothing, and that has serious, irreversible side effects, is essentially good enough for some patients with mild symptoms, SOLELY BECAUSE OF THE LOWER COST. And if it’s outrageous enough just in theory that docs are supposed to be putting cost ahead of the patient’s best interest, consider that in the real world, you can’t even tell whether a given patient’s adult symptoms will be serious based on the pediatric symptoms, so all these “mild” (there really is no such thing in this disorder) cases could well become severe cases as a direct result of not getting good pediatric treatment.
Now, consider gene therapy, not just for my disorder, but for all disorders that have a range of symptom severity. If you follow this precedent, then clinicians will be expected to grade patients on the severity of their symptoms, and some will be given gene therapy and some will be given old ineffective treatment. Like deciding to use leeches for anemia instead of giving patients iron supplements, since the leeches are free and the iron costs something. Sigh.
It just breaks my heart that a peer-reviewed article (which means not just the authors but the reviewers thought this made sense) is suggesting applying this kind of analysis to KIDS (and you just know it won’t be limited to my one little rare disorder, so it’s kids with all sorts of conditions who will be denied a healthy future that is possible but expensive). It’s bad enough that a lot of adults with my disorder can’t get access to the only treatment that actually works (on the theory that we’re not suffering enough to justify the cost), but I can almost accept it since we’ve already got irreversible damage, so the most the treatment can do is slow/stop the progression (which is actually a lot of benefit, but not the same as for kids who have the potential to grow up normal instead of totally disabled by age fifty or earlier). This good treatment in kids can maximize their growth potential, fully mineralize their bones/teeth, and set them up to never get the irreversible damage that current adults have from the old treatment. But with this kind of analysis pediatric clinicians will be complicit in the failure to prevent a known bad outcome, despite finally having the tools to prevent it.
Argh. If you got through all of that, you can see what I’m distracted.
TL;DR — it doesn’t do much good to have an effective treatment if clinicians won’t prescribe it, because they think it’s too expensive, and most new treatments going forward, especially for rare diseases which require either a biologic or gene therapy, will be insanely expensive.
You need to write this up for a national newspaper or magazine, Gin. I don’t know the American market, but here I’d look at Good Housekeeping or a similar magazine, I think. It’s aimed at mothers, principally.
Unfortunately, the market is crowded with stories of kids who will die in five (or ten or twelve) years if they don’t discover and access a treatment. Really hard to compete when the kids with my disorder will be disabled and suffer unnecessarily but not die.
The good news is that I’m starting to see, not quite weekly, but maybe monthly, news stories of parents in other rare disorder communities who raise millions of dollars to fund gene therapy research because their kid will die in five years without it, and they set up a foundation to own the patent, so it means 1) the patient community, not pharma, will control the intellectual property surrounding the treatment, and 2) the owner of the intellectual property isn’t looking to make a profit for shareholders, so there’s a chance that the treatment will be more affordable than otherwise.
Then don’t frame it like that, write an informative piece on it, like a summary article Readers Digest used to have back when they were good. That layman would understand
[fume, fume, fume]
I would say I can’t believe it, but unfortunately I can.
“not suffering enough”! Can we have GoFundMe type groups where people contribute their suffering to add up to “enough”?
Time just zipped past ending with a knee injury tearing out the vinyl covering on the balcony. Waiting for the contractors now. Hoping it will be done so granddaughter and I can celebrate our birthdays on or under the balcony. Tore out the old soffits, installing new lights and wood which I will paint a soft blue to mimic the sky to make an outdoor living space with views to the garden.
Didn’t get some of the jobs done. A bit upsetting as usual. So…onward and upward.
August-well, I just kept up with things. Maybe tomorrow I’ll put up some pictures I bought months ago. Just to start September off right.
I did some more housework. It’s worth noting because for two years I basically haven’t done any. I mean, I think I ran the Swiffer around twice? But this month I dusted, Swiffered, vacuumed, moved furniture and cleaned underneath it, decluttered, etc.
Today I emptied the open shelf over the sink and cleaned that (and all the assorted mugs, tumblers, and daily-drinking wine glasses, some of which were re-homed into space I made available in a closed cabinet) and put things back nice and neat.
Back in the day we bought a lot of glassware because we had parties and we were sure things would get broken. Ha! Clearly we didn’t have wild-enough parties.
In writer business, I blogged a thing and got another title ready to re-launch with its new cover.
I made my finished painting of a fern better :-). Anyone else have the problem of wanting to keep on tweaking art? I’m firmly telling myself this one’s done now, and I started a new painting.
And I’ve got a big chunk of back garden that’s a total mess. It used to be mainly vege garden and that’s turned to weeds, with straggly and dead trees around it and weeds under the trees. I started transforming it, by getting someone in to take out the poor sad trees. We used a chipper to make mulch out of the debris and that was hard work. Next is clearing and leveling everything, which’ll be too hard for me to do, so I’ll have to get someone in to do it, but it already looks better than it did. And once it’s done it’ll be a wonderful spot to sit in all summer.
I can tweak and nit pick forever. It’s one of the reasons I work with acrylic paint. It dries fast and shortens the window for second guessing. I also never hang my own work because I will look at it and stew.
Ha! I’ve reworked and tweaked paintings that have been on the wall for several years. I keep looking at them and thinking, “I could make that better, more realistic, prettier, etc.”, and I take it down and do it. It’s a sickness!!!! Some were even acrylics that were already varnished.
Old artist’s joke:
When is your watercolor finished?
About 10 minutes before you stop painting.
I love that. Says the art major who sucked at water color.
Its true of novels, too. You get to the point where you can’t quit but you’re washing garbage.
Today I put baby-locks back on the cabinets and baby-gates in the doorways to keep the puppy out of mischief (or at least reduce the degree of mischief. I did forget to move the toilet paper out of reach the other day, which meant the bathroom floor was briefly covered in soggy confetti because *someone* thought the roll was a great toy–good thing we’re not still in the midst of The Great Covid Toilet Paper Shortage.
Tomorrow will include a trip to the vet because said puppy (an almost 5-month old lab” is either sick or has ingested something she shouldn’t have. I had forgotten the many and varied joys of puppyhood. Good thing she’s cute.
The same works with children. Good thing they are cute.
I have continued working at the level of minimum adulthood, which is to say: one grown up thing per day. It’s amazing how giving yourself permission to do just one thing ends up with more things getting done than when I actively try to do more. Actually that’s probably obvious, but it’s amazing to me. So today I will make a salad for my next three work lunches, and then take a nap. If I’m feeling energetic, I might book an optometrist appointment, but the beauty of minimum adulthood is that I don’t have to feel guilty if I don’t. Winning.
In the closing moments of August, I wanted to re-write a song as “filk.”
“No, that’s not a typographical error (although the word started as one, long ago). Filksongs and filksinging are the folk music of a time and a community, just as, say, Celtic ballads, or New England sea chanteys are — except the time is today (or tomorrow) and the community is science fiction and fantasy fandom.” – Jordin Kare
Some filk is original material. Some filk is “sung to the tune of” some other song. There was a country song, The Battle of New Orleans. Then there was a filk song about Boy Scouts to the same tune. So I wanted to write an Ode to Salad. There’s still over 30 minutes left of August, but I’m not going to make it. And who’d sing along to “Domo arigato Mr. Tomato,” anyway? Let it go, let it go… never mind.
I got my truck back, fixed, and I didn’t have to pay for that, since the noise it was making had appeared right after previous fixing. But, when I was ready to take it in to the fixer, it wouldn’t start two times, and finally on the third time, it did. The fixer couldn’t get it to not start, so he asked if I sometimes leave the key in when the truck is in the garage, and maybe it wasn’t in all the way? I don’t do that, but I got to thinking maybe the key is worn out, since I’ve been using it for 18 years, and I save the second key just to give to fixers. I compared the keys when I got the truck back, and the much-used one is worn down in several spots, so that it might not connect properly with the keyhole. So I had a new one made from the fixer key, and I hope that is the end of truck drama for awhile.
Part of the previous fixing was a new starter.
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