I was thinking that I didn't have much to say, but I was going to try to write something, but then, as I was opening Writer, I remembered I DO have something to say.  Let me just say, argh!

OK, so remember when I bought my car, oh...a year and a half ago?  Well, because we bought it in MD, the dealership didn't get VA plates for us and put them on.  OK, fine.  We let let our temporary plates go basically all the way until they expired, and then got the new plates at the end of July.  I put the back one on, but then when I went to put on the front one, I realized that there weren't holes in the license plate holder and thought that we would have to drill through it.  To confound things, the holder didn't come off the car.  I told John there was no way I was going to do that, given that I am so prone to making mistakes in projects like that.  I didn't want to accidentally drill into my car's bumper.  So the project was put into his lap. After a couple of months (say maybe in September) we finally got the screws so that he could at least do it if he was so inclined.  Spring 2009 arrives and I hear how a friend's husband got a ticket for not having a front license plate on his car.  I tell John this and emphasize that we really need to get the plate on the car.  Talk about it a few more times over the next few months.  Nothing.  Early summer 2009 I drive by a cop and he pulls out behind me, and I'm pretty convinced that he's going to pull me over.  Turns out to be a false alarm, but that night I tell John that we have GOT to put the plate on the car.  Nothing.  In his (small) defense, in all this time John does attempt to start the project a few times. Once he got the drill out, fully intending to go out to the car and put the plate on...but nothing happened.  We brought the drill over to his mom's one Sunday, thinking that he would have more free time there to be able to go out and do it.  Except he didn't.  Fast forward to this past Monday, almost 15 months since we had gotten the license plates.  I'm driving over to Megan's to see my mom, and guess what happens?  A freaking state trooper pulls me over and gives me a ticket.  Wow, what a surprise. Didn't see that one coming. $25 ticket plus court costs brings it to $90.  Oh joy.  I was, and still am, furious over this incident.  I'm taking deep breaths to calm myself down right now.  Whoooo.  When we got home after our visit with my mom, I went out to the car, bound and determined to just put the damn thing on myself, and if I screwed it up, oh well.  I get out there, look at it again, and this time I think to myself, 'You know, I think I might just be able to push the screw through the plastic and not really have to drill.'  I get the necessary supplies, and lo and behold, don't have to drill.  It takes me a grand total of about 4 minutes, including my trip back into the house to get the screwdriver.  Seriously.  Seriously.  If John had just bothered to look at the damn thing, it would have been done at least a year ago.  But noooo, that's just too much work.  Ugh, he makes me so angry sometimes!  I'm to blame in that I was wrong in how the thing had to be installed, which made the project sound harder than it was.  He's to blame because he did nothing for 15 months.  Which is worse? 

Time to go make bread.  I think the kneading will be good anger management...