Late Saturday morning, I finally got around to packing and getting ready for my return trip home. As I made my first haul to my car, I said to my dad, "Do my tires look low?" He got out a gauge and checked the tires. He pulled out a ginormous air compressor and filled them up. He said, "You need to get that back tire checked out. It's low."
I told him I would do that when I get my oil changed, thinking all would be OK for a few days. I hit the road. I unpacked my car and went about doing laundry and trying to put up my suitcases and things (don't be too proud of me - the suitcases and other things I brought back are strategically placed and not put up).
Then, this afternoon, I went to work. I went out for some dinner and was thinking something didn't feel right about my car. I got out and noticed that rear tire dad warned me about was flat! I walked inside and found two kind friends to take pity on me. They changed my tire in minutes! In fact, if I had to do it, I would probably still be out in the parking lot trying to figure out how to do it. So as soon as I wake up Monday, I will have to go get the tire checked out. We found a nail in it, but it's not on the side. Hopefully it can be patched and doesn't need to be replaced. ARGH.