NP: Alanis Morrisette, Under Rug Swept

If this year isn't my worst ever as a car owner, it's pretty damn close. After being towed once just in case it snowed and ticketed for not having my city sticker on my windshield, now I've got a garden-variety ticket that's also my own goddamned fault.

They're doing work on my street as of yesterday, something I was emphatically reminded of at around 7am this morning. So I can't park there. No problem, as there are non-metered spots right around the corner on Lincoln, right?

Wrong. In a clever coincidence, Monday mornings from 7am to 9am are street cleaning. That'll be $50, Mr. Costello, on top of about $300 in fines to date. For anyone else, that may seem about average for a year, but I've got a pretty good track record on this stuff. I looked to see if I had an angle for a cleverly shot photograph that might get me out of it, but the prospects didn't look good.

Then there's the air conditioning, but I'll withhold that rant until I can see whether or not I can cajole the good folks at Lawrence & Ashland into taking responsibility for not fixing it the first time.