I don't have a picture for today. I should have taken one, but I was so distracted that it never crossed my mind. And by the time that things settled down, it was too late. (I know. I'm a bad blogger. I should have had my camera out before doing anything else.)
It started with the decision to go to the Thursday night knitting group. I considered just going home after work, since I had homework I wanted to do. But it was Thursday, and I was already in Boca, and the justification was made in my mind.
So I passed the turn to get onto the interstate, and drove one more block before turning onto the highway toward the shopping plaza. As I turned, my "Low Air Pressure" warning came on. Normally I can go a while before I absolutely have to stop to put air in the tires, but since I would be traveling the interstate at night I made a mental note to stop at a gas station after knitting. I drove just two, maybe three miles on the highway and then made my turn into the shopping plaza.
Just as I turned, I heard a loud "plop!" Then my car started going "ba-bop-ba-bop-ba-bop-ba-bop-ba-bop." Since my car doesn't usually go "ba-bop-ba-bop-ba-bop-ba-bop-ba-bop" I pulled into the first empty parking space I found so that I could take a look. My front tire was completely, totally flat.
My knitting friends were great. They quickly organized things, calling AAA to put on my donut and getting me pointed towards Sears. Luckily, Sears was still open (even though it was evening by then) and I was able to get two new tires. It took my entire first paycheck, but i was grateful that (1) I had a job and (2) that it just happened to be my first payday.
The mechanic at Sears, after taking a look at the flat tire, asked me where I was when I had the blow-out. When I explained about turning into the plaza when the tire suddenly went flat, he told me that I was very lucky. According to him, if I had been traveling at any rate of speed, I would have had a full blow-out and that it would have been bad in my tiny car. So I'm very glad I decided to pass the interstate entrance in order to knit.