Driving a minivan with J. in the passenger seat. It is a crappy minivan, and in order to work the brake pedal I have to lean so far forward that the van's center of balance shifts; it tips forward and the asphalt flies up to the windscreen. "Ack!" says J. "Sorry," I say, "it's a crappy minivan."
A pipe has burst inside the piano. I hadn’t realized the piano was hooked up the the house’s water supply, but the pipe has burst and is spraying hot water everywhere; the wood is swelling, with obvious adverse effects on the piano’s sound. I try to plug the flow with a cork from last night’s wine bottle, but it doesn’t fit. Also, I am a woman. I will have to marry some rich suitor so that he can pay for the piano repair.
