Garage Manicure

As I look at my battered hands I see the cracks and cuts caused by my inner mechanic. The one that prefers not to pay someone else to repair his car because it's too expensive. Last Saturday I made my first attempt at repairing disk brakes. Through lack of time and proper parts (Auto store sold me the wrong ones) I barely got by replacing my rear rotors. A few cuts here and bashed thumb I manage to get the damn bastards off and fix what I can. I do derive some form of satisfaction with this and yet I'm torn by the expected conditions that I've gained manly points because of it. It ticks me off so much that I think I'll go window shopping once I wash the grease out from my bleeding hands.