Lauren drove which is half the burden off me. As we pulled into Jackson proper she discovered she didn't have her phone. Ugh. We back tracked where we had been and she remembered it falling out at the cabin but she got distracted with something else. So we're unloaded this old ass car with her looking at another trip to Dyersburg and back for said phone. As we pulled up Aunt Erica came out and we told her what was up. As fate would have it her husband was in Dyersburg for an appointment so we got in touch with him and he went and found it. What a save Uncle Bo!
I can tell the difference in gas prices now, even with my one little trip to Jackson each week. Of course it's prolly because the damn car is 17 years old with no hubcaps, tail light cover or passenger side door handle. It's like a mini-series watching me try to keep that thing alive. But if I don't? I'm screwed. The manifold is damaged and you can hear it roaring a mile away.
Something I failed to mention is that Liz and I were co-workers at the sawmill for our entire careers. She gave her all to everything she did and got a bit used like me. When Methodist sold us to CHS, she and I were part of the IT conversion which was the biggest cluster you'd ever hope to see. SEVEN hospitals at once. And now, they're doing it again.
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