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Manfred gets rained on occasionally. Like yesterday, which he got rained on a lot, and then it was windy, so he should have dried off without any nasty water spots or anything like that. Nice thing about rain is that you get to clean the undercarriage, too.
Interior, I do wipe the windshield when I can't see through it anymore. I don't smoke in the car, so I don't have to do it as often as I used to. I ran out of space in the trunk, so there are a couple things in the back seat ... tent, sleeping pad, pillow. Oh, and my friend's tupperware that I have to return. That kind of thing. And some padded-top legal pads for work. I buy my own. The perf-top ones the nuthouse buys don't fit on my personal clipboard. I don't have my own desk, but I have my own clipboard. And my own pens. Their pens are too cheap and write crappy. Last night I'm sure the new ambulance guy took my pen and won't give it back. Yes, I know. I'm like the red Swingline stapler guy, except that I speak more clearly. And there's probably some books Tester-San gave me that I haven't had time to bring into the house, but I think they're in the footwell under the sleeping pad, so I don't see them. Out of sight, out of mind.
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