And Then I Flushed Thousands of Dollars Down The Drain...

In November, I wrote about my car and it's woes. I hate my car, not only because it is awful, but also because it regularly costs me thousands of dollars to keep it in such a condition that I can get to work every day.

As of Saturday, I have put about eleven hundred dollars in repairs into this car, not including what the cost the repair will be once the shop looks at it. This only includes the past three months because there have been boatloads of other repairs over the course of last winter, spring, and summer.

I'm not sure if you've ever invested over a grand in the course of three months into something you hate, but it tends to make a person kind of bitter. You know, in case you were wondering.

My financial situation is pathetic at best and atrocious at worst. Considering the math I did earlier this evening, I am beginning to see why I am so sadly, pathetically broke.

As in, I have no cash. As in, my mother had to buy my shampoo and body wash last weekend because I needed to take a shower but I am too poor to buy the products with which to do so.

I'm kinda down in the dumps, you could say.

I thought that, after my last investment of money into this car's transmission, I would be able to drive worry free for at least another six months. I really don't think that six months' worth of functionality is too much to ask of a transmission.

My Saturn Vue had other plans.

The transmission gave out in heavy traffic in the city (I hate heavy traffic and I hate the city, in case you didn't already know this about me).

I can only praise the Lord that my good friend and neighbor was driving at the time (He knows how I feel about traffic and the city. He is specifically aware of how I feel about being in traffic and the city at the same time).

I am now poring over vehicles online and asking myself the heavy questions: Considering the length of my commute every day, should I go with a new car? Should I opt for the super fancy warranty? Should I try my hand at another used car? Would it be insane to invest in a four wheel drive with very, very sexy tires?

I've spent the weekend alternately laughing and crying over the situation. If you could picture two rednecks on the side of the road with an inordinate amount of beer in the back seat hitching a ride from a tow truck driver who goes whaling in his spare time, you might see the humor in the situation as well.

If you could see me driving to the bank to withdraw the two hundred and twenty dollars it cost to tow us back, you might see the tears. Especially because that sum of money had been earmarked to pay back the most recent repair on the vehicle.

I hate cars.

Still on a Hiatus...

Yep, I made it PAST my one month mark and I am now roaring into month two. I wear a lot of jammies, watch a lot of movies, spend a lot of time with friends, and never worry about the crumbs of Cheetos on the front of my shirt.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what freedom is all about.

Of course, there have been ups and downs. Like last week, when I was driving innocently down the road and my phone rang. And it was a number I didn't recognize but thought it could be an important business contact. So I answered and I was so stunned to hear the voice on the other end that I almost crashed my car.

It was the MooseHunter and I believed, after our breakup, that he would never call me again. I had no intention last November of ever hearing his voice again and I was actually fine with that.

But then he called me? What could he possibly have to say?

I did what any sane and rational person would do and told him that he was an asshole. He sighed and told me he gets that a lot. (You'd think a person would take some sort of inventory on this and maybe, just maybe make some changes? Apparently not.)

Then I told him that I was angry at him. Like, mad. I said "I'm real mad at you." (His redneck-ed-ness really brings out my inner redneck, poor grammar and all.)

Then I said "You know I deleted your number from my phone?"

He said "Oh?"

I told him it was a physical impossibility for me to call him back.

He didn't have much to say about that, either. Except to ask me what I would be doing later on.

So I did what any girl who's invested a year and a half in liking someone and said "Well, I'm still mad but you can call me tonight at five."

And then I went home and cried. (He didn't call, in case you were wondering.)

I'd love to report that this phone call didn't send me into a tizzy and that I carried on with grace and dignity afterwards but my friends would know what a poor liar I am.

I did make one attempt at calling him back to yell at him ungracefully but his phone was off and by the next day I had come to my senses.

So, I carried on with my life as planned and continued driving to work every day. Of course, two days after the first call, he was broke down on the side of the road and a red light dictated that I must stop my car. Unfortunately, I had to stop my car about ten feet from where he was standing. There was no choice about the eye contact and I did give him a neighborly nod when he waved. I did not pull over and offer to give him a ride, praise be.

He called about ten minutes after that. I let him do the talking and then said I had to go as I was having trouble shifting gears and talking at the same time.

Now I'm thinking, do I have to get a new car so he doesn't recognize me when I'm driving to and from work? How do you escape someone who lives, works, and plays within a five mile radius of your house?

My first thought is to drive to his house and demand that he leave CowTown immediately. Sell your farm and head West, buddy, because I am not going anywhere.

I doubt that would go over very well.

I think my only option here is to learn how to share my town.

I hate sharing my town.