One of those days . . . .

I cussed in public last night.
That's rare, just fyi. I cuss, but it is usually under my breath and in private or a private-ish setting.
My engine has been sounding a little rough. I decided I should check the oil level since I hadn't changed it in a couple months. (I drive too much to let it actually go three months, but I'm getting increasingly tired of having to go to the mechanice so often. So, it's been about three months.)
First, my hood is tricky. It doesn't just lift like other hoods. No, there is a trick to it. One that I can't figure out. So, I ask a complete stranger if he can figure it out (after I fiddled with it for about 5 minutes). He does.
So, now to find the dipstick. It should be at the front, but no, not my current lovely car. Where is it? Up towards the hood. That makes sense. (not really) So, I have to memorize the unusual spot of the dipstick. It's dark outside and the shadow of the hood covers up the light I need.
I pull the dipstick out and take note of where it is. I take it over to the paper towels, grab one, and wipe it off. I go to put it back in to actually check the oil level. There's a minor problem. I can't see the dipstick hole. So, I try to feel around. I'm sure I'll be able to feel it. Except I can't remember exactly where I should be feeling. Somewhere towards the windshield to the right. That narrows it down. (not really)
10 minutes later I am able to find a flashlight of sorts. That makes life 300 times easier. I see that I do indeed need oil. I go to pour it in, but decide that I don't need a funnel. Bad idea.
I get a paper funnel, pour the oil in, check it, pour some more in, check it. Good. I can go home now. I close the hood. Then I hear something fall on the ground. "That's not good" I say aloud. I fear that I broke something somehow and an essential part just fell off my car.
I look down to see the engine oil cap on the ground. I get on my stomach (in office clothes no less) and retrieve the cap. I'm relieved it's just the engine oil cap. I'm pissed that I need to try to open the hood again. So, I pop the hood and begin fiddling with it again. I am trying to remember what the gentleman told me and I can't. This is the point at which I cuss.
Another gentleman hears me and offers to help. He shows me and has me feel the (atypical) latch for the hood. I put the oil cap on. Close my hood (again), get in my car, start it, and realize that I'm about to drive off with the gasoline pump still in my tank (oddly enough, I had a dream Saturday night where I actually did drive off with the pump in my tank and made it all the way home). I put the gasoline pump back. Get back in my car, drive home.
I then read Donald Miller for the next 2 1/2 hours. My evening was redeemed.