(Sad car is sad.)
I got Troubles, my friend, with a capital T – that stands for Toyota.
If I believed in God, I would certainly be accusing such deity of fucking with me – yet again.
Remember last February, when we were going to head up to Snowater, Washington (about ½ way up Mt. Baker)? And I had a bunch of work done on my car? And then the trunk lock broke?
I sure as fuck do.
Well, we are all set to take another trip to the same place.
I took my car in.
There is a little rattle in the engine.
That little rattle constitutes about $6,000 in repairs!
That’s $6,000 for a car that is 12 years old.
That’s $6,000 for a car that cost about $9,000 to begin with.
AND the car couldn’t be fixed in time for our upcoming trip.
Oh funny, funny, deity of the cars.
I get really stressed over travel.
I get really stressed over car troubles.
Somebody hand me my fat-old-lady happy pills. NOW!!!!
And here’s the thing. The car runs fine. It doesn’t over heat. I have no problems – there’s just this weird rattle in the engine. We could probably drive it really far with no problem – probably. But traveling far away from home, up into mountains, is probably not the best way to put this to the test.
I see a car rental in my immediate future.
And then I may just see wtf happens, because like I said. The car runs fine.
And I know these are all very first-world problems; and I am so fortunate to be able to deal with them; but my stomach is still knotted and my hands are still shaking and I still feel like crying.
Can you be both a fat old lady and a spoiled brat?