Race for my ass.

I guess I shouldn’t blame things on the, “Race for the Cure.” I’ve never been a big fan since the early days when they were so divisive and wanted to keep men away, even male survivors of breast cancer. I’ve been told that they’re a lot better now and there’s even a co-ed race so I’ll quit being so negative.

But still, today my mom was driving when a, “Race for the Cure,” participant decided it was, “Race for the Denny’s Parking Lot,” and changed lanes right into the front of her car. Nobody was hurt, but my mom’s car isn’t driveable. After exchanging insurance information, the other driver abandoned her car in a busy street and went to eat at Red Robin.

Ma's busted car.

I also didn’t appreciate all the, “Race for the Cure,” participants who were snotty to us as the tow truck slowly hooked up my mom’s car. We were moved out of the busy street into a Denny’s parking lot, and we were blocking in several cars. I’m not sure where the, “fancy ladies,” all came from but it wasn’t Denny’s so they were parked illegally. Their time was certainly worth more than ours and wanted us to make the tow truck driver hurry up. Fortunately, I wasn’t so cranky that I let anyone know what I was really thinking.

I spent most of yesterday helping my next door neighbors move in, but I slept in to compensate. I figured that helping them move in was much more productive than starting some sort of feud and I didn’t have much else to do. Their old apartment was a moving nightmare. The front entrance was one story up from the street, they were on the second floor, and the apartment had a second story to it. I’m happy that at least one of my new neighbors isn’t a doctor. (Next door to us, he’s a corporate controller, she’s a doctor. Next door to them is a doctor and retired doctor mom. Next door to them is a epidemiologist/doctor. And finally next door to her are two emergency room doctors.)