MPH?

Blog
Returning from an ultimate tournament is always a mini culture-shock. Not the shock of returning from Peru or Curacao or Scotland or Hong Kong, but the return always requires a slight perception adjustment.

On the way to work this morning, I had a rude awakening as, once again, a driver pulled out in front of me at the last. possible. moment and proceeded to drive more slowly than either the speed limit or the road conditions would dictate.

Because, of course, the four blocks of empty space was too small to pull into, and in front of me was clearly the only place to be.

Clearly.

Much different than leaving the driving to Kris the whole week.

Much.

So, while following the doofus for the seven blocks that our commutes overlapped, I looked down to see how slowly we were driving and, what the?, my car was in mph.

MPH? Huh?

Okay, who's been driving my car?

I switched it back to km/h, only to have it switch back to mph when I started it back up 10 minutes later. If I wanted to drive the car in mph, I wouldn't be complaining about the car switching from km/h.

The gas tank level readings were also fluctuating between two bars and eight, so I'm getting concerned about the electrical system. The radio stations hadn't reset, so the battery isn't dead. Apparently a week of not being driven is cause for concern.

At least I ordered a replacement bumper and front right quarterpanel for the car today. Doyle offered to help me switch out the damaged ones, so we have a project for this weekend or next. Tragically, they don't come painted, so I'll have to get them painted after we've replaced them.