Aside from That, Mrs. Lincoln......

The phrase that occurs to me is, Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

The faithful PT Cruiser sits lonely and abandoned in a service station bay, awaiting further exploration, diagnostics, and tests. Half an hour after picking it up, I heard the lava sounds from under the hood and watched the thermostat needle as it streaked into the red again. Steam and smoke and the smell of burning oil were everywhere and my heart sank. I had just returned the little VW rental, cringing at the bill but accepting the inevitable. I had no idea that the following day I would be once again at the rental company, this time leaving - for the entire weekend - in a shiny champagne colored Elantra. I handed over my credit card, feeling as if I was signing my own economic death warrant.

On the bright side, or so I kept telling myself, was the fact that I had gotten the much needed if only temporary treatment for my abscessed tooth. The pain and swelling had receded, I was able to wear my bridgework and take nourishment again. I banished all thoughts of next week's oral surgery to next week, determined to cross that bridge at the proper time and not one nano second sooner. Slipping into denial was surprisingly easy, like easing into a warm, scented bath and refusing to acknowledge that the water would eventually turn cold. Calgon, I said to myself, Take me away and I will stay put until reality rears it's demonic head and drags me back.