nnngghh!

i had another disturbing dream about sexually predatory half-wits and abstract malaise last night. i am unsure what this psychologically indicates.
the dream: i am walking "home" -it's my parent's house in anchorage, but a new place that i have never lived in. i am a visiting guest. they are out of town. i pass two teenage guys in the woods en route. they are loitering under a rain-dripping tree and holding knives. they start to follow me, trying to touch me, saying unsalubrious things. they look like extras from 'the hills have eyes.' i get to the house, all whitewashed walls and empty corridors, and find the room i am to stay in. they are apparently guests here too, in a room down the hall. i go to the bathroom (note: classic toilet dream) and hear them rummaging through my things in my absense. i find another room to stay in and lock the door. sleep. wake up to s, standing over me with concern. "are you feeling better?" she asks. i am unsure what she means. "you almost had to go to the hospital" she says. "you would not stop vomiting."
i wake up for real. entropy has discovered q-tips over the last week; she gets on the counter, ransacks the container, and scatters them all over the house. i blearily yelled at her, tossed my paperback copy of "living and working abroad" in her direction, and went back to sleep.
*
sweet green's tire is finally fixed. i ended up calling the guy who sold her to me. i spent all weekend feeling like a feeble jackass, completely ignorant to what i was doing. pried open bonnet with hammer and screwdriver. stared cluelessly at rusted jack. called 2 places and looked through cheery manual to figure out how to pry off hubcap (lacking the specific "loosening device" i settled for same screwdriver). bought new socket wrench and new "jack" at store. could not loosen lugnuts. in middle of street, visible to all neighbors, the epitome of helpless female. fucking mortifying. it is at times like this that i want a sign that says "honestly, i am rather knowledgable about other things."
c and his son showed up. "how far did you drive on this?" he asked. i proudly showed him my new jack (that did not make sense when i assembled it; it looked nothing like any jack i've seen). "that's the brace" he said. "where's the jack?" he deftly brandished the rusted jack that came with the car; it worked beautifully. "you didn't know how this works, do you" he said as a statement. "no" i replied. i stood by stupidly while he swapped the tire in under three minutes. for over three months i have been unable to do this basic task. he seemed quite amused.
i cannot put into words how fucking daft i feel.
perhaps i can: i feel fucking daft.
but the tire is fixed, and the sun is shining, and it is one less thing to worry about. and i have a brand-new brace and a shiny, unused socket wrench to, i don't know, make a sculpture with.
i even had the vile thought: "i need a man around to fix things." I ACTUALLY HAD THAT THOUGHT.
if i replaced "man" with "minion" it wouldn't sound so fucking horrible.