My car hates me

So it's taken me a couple of days to get over this, but I need to get this off my chest. My stitch n' bitch group meets on Mondays at a location about 45 minutes away from me, which is fine. I enjoy the drive there. This past Monday I was all excited about going up there. I get out of work, I fondle the striped sweater that I've been trying to finish and I start driving. Traffic is the usual hell it is during rush hour, but no biggie. I'm happy because I'm going to my stitch n' bitch to meet the girls, talk all things fiber, and knit my heart away. The route I normally take cuts through some bad sections of town, but I normally don't mind because I zoom past them on my way to the expressway. So I'm about half way there, I see the expressway. I start merging to the lane I need to be in to get on the on ramp, I go to downshift so that I could start slowing down before my turn, and my car is stuck in 3rd gear. I pull over, I start messing with the clutch to see if maybe I'm not pushing it in all the way. I turn the car off and on and see if maybe it's a fluke, which I should know better because it's a mechanical transmission, not a computerized one and I can't reboot it. I get out, I look under my hood to see if my clutch cable snapped and that's why it won't disengage the gear, nothing. It all seems to be in place, it's something inside my transmission. Stealing from the Knitting Virgin, I scream "FUXX!" and make a call. I finally stop panicking enough to take a look around and realize that I'm not in the greatest part of town. I have people sitting on the corner intently staring at me. So I'm sitting there thinking that there really isn't much I can do. I can't move the car because I'll wear out my clutch, I can't really do much of anything except sit there, so I start knitting and forget about everything that's around me. I start knitting away on the sleeve for the striped sweater thinking, "if I can't make it to my meet, at least I can try and finish this sleeve!" Finally, the guys in the corner decide to ask me why I won't try and start my car. Mind you, this to me is a really stupid question because I know what's wrong with my car and I know they assume I'm a stupid girl that knows nothing about my car, but what they don't realize is that I know my car inside and out. I know every noise it makes, I know when somethings wrong, and I know when it breaks down what's wrong with it, even when everyone else is telling me I'm wrong, in the end I'm always right. So I look at them with the most sarcastic look I can muster and tell them, "if that were the problem I wouldn't be sitting here. My transmission just went out." They all simultaneously give a big, "OOOooooh!" and leave me alone. So I keep knitting away on my sleeve, jamming to the music, and feeling a bit carefree. Finally, my boyfriend arrives to pick me and the car up. I grab the sleeve that at this point has a good 6-8 inches on it and I wrap it around my stepsons arm to see it's coming out, and guess what? It's too freakin' small!!! The thing wraps around, but really tight and I can't possibly have him wearing a sweater that's too tight on him. So I spent two hours sitting on the side of the road, in a bad neighborhood, during sundown, knitting on the only consolation I had for not being able to make it to my Stitch n' Bitch meeting, only to find out that I had to rip it back and start over again in a bigger width. Needless to say that when I got home from this entire ordeal, I popped open a Bacardi Mojito Pomegranate wine cooler (which are quite good by the way) and started spinning the latest fiber on my spindle.