Behold my dominion

Last week's mood: veni, vidi, vici

Ach, no! Indicator lights are never a good thing. My car, she speaks to me, and tries to tell me of her pain...

Diving into the owner's manual, I puzzle, scratch my head, cross my fingers, and diagnose.

Click, click, click.

Exactly three driving trips later, the light is gone! Look, I healed my car! Am car genius! (Or, you know, can match a symbol, much like a rat.)

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Bad washer, ate all of my quarters except the last (naturally). Damn you, I want clean sheets!!!

Shake, shake, shake of the big metal box, to no avail. Slight tipping, lots of begging, no dice, baby. I bow my head in defeat and walk away (to the tune of a lot of swearing. And maybe some kicking.).

Later, when checking on a nice, working machine, I try, one more time and...success!!! It totally loves how I jammed my quarter up its stupid, dispenser butt. Violence is the answer. I race up the stair to get my laundry before someone else tries to abscond with my hot water. (In this case, possession really would be 9/10s of the law...)