nightrythm ◾ ◾ I am well and truly frustrated, at the limitations of being a weakling.

This morning, I got up, threw on some work clothes and went out to my truck to change the battery. I looked through my toolbox and found that... at least one of my tools was missing (crescent wrench) and that while basic for my household requirements (nailing things down, fixing electrical, changing the connection on coax cable); my tools are insufficient for working on a car.

So, I did the logical thing, I pilfered my husbands tools (which I'd like to point out he got at an office Christmas party three years ago - I had tools before he did, thankyouverymuch). His kit had a crescent wrench (I wish I knew what happened to mine) and a screw driver with adaptable heads. The last thing I needed was a 5/16 nut driver. Ironically, I gave a set of these to my Patch when we first started dating. They were left behind by a copy repair guy and he never did come pick them up.

Well, with my husbands tools and my ingenuity, I got the dead truck battery unhooked. Then, then I tried to pick it up. I realized I probably could have strong armed it up and out, but that would have involved clutching it to my body at some point, as well as aggravating my already sore back. While getting dirty is something I'd like to avoid, it was the pain factor that decided me. Why is my back sore you ask... let me share with you yesterday's fiasco. Actually fiasco is a little strong, stupidity is perhaps a better choice.

I went to Petco to buy litter. I decided in my infinite wisdom to get the big bag of litter. Normally, I have Patch with me for this excursion (and the heavy lifting), last night I was flying solo. So I bent over (first wrong move) and lifted the 40lb. bag of litter off of the bottom shelf, which of course involved some interesting contortions on my part (second wrong move). Clutching the bag to my body and resting it on my purse (smart move), I went to the register, when suddenly five people materialized in front of me and beat me to the cashier. They of course, had lots of little stuff and questions or issues.

To his credit (sort of) the manager (who was at a different -closed- station) started calling for backup. At some point while waiting in the one and only line, the bag started to slip, so I executed a manuever that was "clean and jerk" flavored, to get the bag high on my chest (painful move). Now of course I had to continue to stand in line, leaning backwards to fight gravity, realizing that while I am intellectually quite advanced, I didn't think this one through and I should have started the whole exercise by getting a cart. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, the backup cashier didn't show up until I was paying for my purchase.

So now, I'm taking care of a few things, while I wait for Patch to wake up, so that he can take over the heavy lifting portion of this DIY project. *sigh*