sad car

(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?

Apparently so.

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