Brake Pads

The brake pads on my car have been shot for weeks. I’m final­ly get­ting them replaced this Sat­ur­day, and I will feel infi­nite­ly bet­ter after­ward. Not because of appre­hen­sion regard­ing my less­ened stop­ping abil­i­ty but because I’ve been putting up with this heinous screech­ing noise as the warn­ing guide scratch­es against the wheel. It has made me quite para­noid, espe­cial­ly since I can now hear it over my radio [a vain attempt to ignore the prob­lem by not hear­ing it]. I imag­ine that every­one knows what I am up to and where I am going because of this high-pitched sound that accom­pa­nies me every­where. Like in the car­toons when a small rain­cloud fol­lows an unfor­tu­nate every­where. I who pride myself on mov­ing silent­ly have been a poor­er cousin of the Klax­on late­ly.

The rea­son I have not got­ten my pads changed soon­er: appar­ent­ly all car main­te­nance places close for a cou­ple of weeks around the hol­i­days. This Sat­ur­day is the first day I’ve had a chance to get in since the noise start­ed.

Thus ends this rather mean­ing­less post.