Are you SURE it's not Monday??

So this morning my windshield wipers stopped working. What I mean by that is that they worked just long enough to go from their resting spot all the way up and then refused to come down.
Crap.
So I went to a mechanic and they turned the wipers on. Nothing happened. They lifted the wiper blades individually and let them boing down on the windshield. More nothing. They chipped at the ice around the wipers, opened the hood and wiggled stuff around, poured hot water on the hood of the car. Again with the nothing. "Hmmmm," said the skinny one. "Hmmmmm," said the not-so-skinny one. "It's probably just froze up in there." They advised me to park it in the sunshine and hope for the best.
Seriously.
So I parked it in the sunshine and now the blades move about a quarter of an inch down and then right back up every 30 seconds or so... but only when it's off.
Crap.
Tomorrow I have class all day. ALL DAY. 9:30 to 4:30 and then I have to work and then it's KIP (yay). Hello, University? I'm a PART-time student. As in not full-time. As in 6 hours, not 9. I am a part-time student because I do not have time in my life to be a full-time or even 3/4-time student. STOP MESSING WITH MY SCHEDULE!!! Anyway, no time in there to take it back to Goober and Elmer.
Double crap.
So I'm almost home tonight. We were almost at the turn that would take us to our very own street when something occurred to me. I had scheduled a boy scout troop to visit the station some evening this week... I knew it wasn't last night, and I knew it wasn't Wednesday... So either tonight or Thursday... So Bean and I drove back to the station (making the requisite stop at Quik Trip for provisions) so that I could check my desk for the bitty scrap of paper that had the information I needed. I called the husband - who picked a stupid fight about NOTHING but managed to make me grumpy anyway - and came back to work. They are, indeed, coming tonight at 6.
Crap.
Can we just fast forward to Friday? And can somebody loan me a crowbar to pry my husband away from his bad mood?? Oh, and while we're at it, can we invent a chocolate cake that tastes like chocolate cake but doesn't have any sugar or fat???

Speaking of cake - I sent the vet clinic a chocolate cake with a card that read "Thanks for the purrfect care, love Sammie." It's the little things, right?