Laugh at my shitty night...

Upon arriving home tonight, my wife informs me that, despite our protestations to the contrary, the company that her parents leased a vehicle from were coming to collect the car tonight. Seeing as we rent an apartment from my in-laws, and happened to be home tonight, making sure everything went smoothly fell on our shoulders.

If "smoothly" is defined as "utter, unredeemably fucktastic chaos," then it went smoothly.

Three things my mother-in-law neglected to inform us about:

1. They were sending an 18-wheeler to pick up the car, instead of a normal flatbed.
2. The field out front is absolutely sopping wet.
3. She told them, specifically, "Oh, there's plenty of room to turn around in the big field.

Needless to say, I've spent three hours assisting the tow truck that came to remove the 18-wheeler dispatched to remove the leased truck. I'm sweaty, tired, cranky, and had to through my mud-stained clothes into the washer because I'm a priss.

To think, I left work thinking "this day can't possibly get worse."

Comics blogging... eventually.

At least I had this face to greet me when I got back in: