My car's in the shop. As cars get older, more things break down, and I drive a pretty old car. The shop had some wildly obscure parts in stock, like a valve for the bug washers and a plate that goes behind a handle that's used only on pre-1993 convertibles, but they had to overnight, of all things, a power steering hose. Hopefully it'll be done today.
Now, I have a loaner car, so I'm not without wheels, but it's not my car, and it's amazing how disorienting that fact can be. And sad, in a way: a 2000+ pound piece of machinery has become so central to my life that I'm distracted and confused when it's not around, even when a perfectly functional substitute is available.