It's always something...

I've got a pretty good job, in that aside from the hard-date deliverables, time is pretty flexible, as long as the work gets done.  Yesterday was one of those days where I actually had a "gotta be there at a certain time* meeting, with an officer of the firm I work for, to discuss an assessment I'm doing on one of their staff. We're a techie kind of firm, so we have an online tool for this.  This tool is a little finicky, especially if you're not behind the corporate firewall - i.e., tunneling in from home like I was.  Most of us end up composing offline, going online, paste in the words, and save the form.  Well, I discovered yesterday that when you do that from a persnickety satellite connection, you have latency issues, and your save doesn't always take, as the autosave feature (that you can't turn off) kicks in and saves the document - without the words you just put in because, well, since you hadn't saved it yet, as far as the system's concerned, you have done it yet.

Heh.  It's always something.

I finally get done what I need to get done and go start the truck.  It's -14F out there, a little warm-up would be good, else the steam from the cuppajoe will become ice on the inside of the windshield.  While I'm behind on my timeline a bit, I've got plenty of time to get to the office for the meeting.  Hop in the truck, slap her into 4-wheel, and head down the road, around the corner, and what's that rumbling noise?  Cursing under my breath, I stop the truck, pull it out of 4-wheel and start up again.  Uh-oh, still rumbling.  Stop the truck, get out, walk around to mebbe kick off some packed ice, walk 'round the back of the truck... and there's a flat tire.   [many expletives were deleted]

It's always something. 

Being a newer truck, it has air pressure sensors on the rim.  I'm almost a quarter mile from home, about 200 meters from my neighbor.  Rather than drive on the rim (much less change the tire on a 20 degree incline) I slowly motor up to my neighbors house and park the truck.  Which they have no problem with and give me a ride back to the house where I'll hop in the Aztek and head out to my meeting.  Telling Alan I'll come back at lunch to change the tire and get out of his driveway, I hop into the Aztek.  It's snowed a lot here since Christmas.  As the tractor is currently NMC (not mission capable) due to a brake problem, the snow isn't cleared like it normally would be.  The Aztek, which hasn't moved since Christmas Eve, high centers and gets stuck, wheel spinning uselessly.

It's always something. 

I'm beginning to think I'm not going to make the meeting on time.

I draft SWWBO, who clambers into her cold-weather gear (she looks like she's going to do some arctic exploring) as I pop down into the barn to fire up the Ranger, figuring I'll use the winch to ease the Aztek out of its little dilemma.  The Polaris Ranger is a fine little machine, tough, powerful, and can go just about anywhere, but that battery has the cold-cranking power of an anemic mouse-powered waterwheel.  It doesn't start.

It's always something.

I grab the battery charger, unplug the extension cord from the goat-waterer-heater, hook it all up and get her started.  I've not really lost any time because SWWBO had only just now gotten kitted out.  I pull the Ranger up a safe distance from the rear of the Aztek and start paying out the winch cable while SWWBO walks the cable to the stuck car.  When she gets there, she gets down, looks under the car and says... "There's no place to hook up."

It's always something.

I find a way to hook on that  I'm, oh, 70% sure will work without causing expensive damage, trudge back to the Ranger, SWWBO gets in the Aztek, I start reeling in the winch, she starts reversing and we're making progress!  Then the Ranger starts pulling itself towards the Aztek, I put my foot on the brake, the engine drops to idle, and then dies because the load of the winch takes so much juice the engine quits.  And, of course, won't restart.

It's always something.  [many more expletives were deleted]

I trudge down to the barn, get the battery charger and the extension cord, SWWBO extends the cord while I'm popping the hood and hooking up the charger.  We're a foot or so short. 

It's always something. 

I trudge off and rummage for another extension cord, hook it up, start the Ranger, SWWBO does her thing in the Aztek, and finally, the Aztek is free.  It is now three minutes to meeting time (with an Officer of the firm, remember) and I've got a 15 minute drive.  So, I'm going to be late.  I thank SWWBO, and then tell her, "Um, I've got to get to this meeting, you've got the clean-up, sorry.  Oh! And your goat-waterers are freezing, because that's where I got the extension cord.... Luv ya!  Bye!"

Finally.  Off to the meeting, which goes well because the Person Of Importance I'm meeting is in laptop helk so my lateness isn't an issue.  Wrap that up, head back to the homestead to change the tire and get the truck back in business - because it's supposed to snow again, another half-foot or so, tomorrow.

Get home, grab a chock block and the floor jack, and head back to the neighbors.  I have some choice words for the people who engineered the spare tire mechanism and the jack for the truck - but my choicest words are for the Armenian-speaking tribesmen from Chad who wrote the text, which was translated from Armenian by drunken college students and then published in the manual. It's clear, simple, and missing info.  Guess that keeps publication costs down.  Oh, and the glue doesn't like the cold, so it's now a 300-odd page loose-leaf manual without a binder.

It's always something.

I get the bleeping tire winched down and released, get the truck chocked, brakes on, and jacked, and just about about get a hernia getting the lug nuts to break free.

I reach down, grab the wheel and give a good, hefty pull.  Nothing.  No movement at all.  Get a *really* good grip, and just about pull the truck off the jack.  Wheel doesn't budge.  Sigh.  Get in the Aztek, go home, and grab a small sledge and some two-by-four pieces, small remnants from the last go-round of chicken-coop repair and target stand construction (no, separate items, not dual-purpose).  Go back, and proceed to whale on the wheel (well, on the wood, which protects the wheel).  

Nothing.  [Many many many expletives are deleted.]

It's always something.

Go home, call the dealership, talk to the service department to see if there's something I've missed.  They basically say, "Oh, no sir, that's not really unusual at all with aluminum rims on steel hubs.  You'll just have to work it carefully off the hub."  Resisting the urge to reach through the phone to choke the guy, I hang up and surrender.  I call our mechanic, and ask 'em to come change my tire for me.  Like that doesn't strike at the heart of a man.

Out they come.  They can't get that wheel off for anything.  They tow it back to the shop.  SWWBO and I are pondering the possibility we may be snowed in, because the Aztek isn't going anywhere, with chains or no, if the snow is deep enough.

But wait!  There's more!  This is going to be a perfect day  - aside from having to charge most of it to leave.  Because after all that I had to slam 4 liters of blech-tasting water so that I could stress the septic system because... today I have a colonoscopy....

*Update - it only took the mechanic 25 whacks with a 25 pound rubber hammer to finally free the wheel.  And the Doc told SWWBO while I was in recovery that my pictures are "Lovely." Apparently I am also very talkative when lightly sedated. Very.  Whodathunk? 

 I am *soooooo* tempted to succumb to the innate narcissism of the 'net and post the pics...