I’ve been without a car for the past two days. I’ve had to wake up earlier, get ready on time and leave the house by 7:30 (all things I never do) in order to carpool with the hubs to work. I can’t even remember the last time I got dropped off somewhere. Actually, I do. It was when I was a teenager in high school.
See, last Sunday, I hopped in my car, made a quick run to the nursery up the street, bought a peony plant and got back in the car — only to roll down my driver’s side window and not have it roll back up. And then all of a sudden, the door lock button wouldn’t work either. And then there was rain on the way. And then, our garage is small and stuffed with all kinds of garage paraphernalia, so our cars can’t fit in it. And then it was 4:30 on a Sunday, which meant car shops were about to close. And then, and then, and then. No more “and then”. Please.
After fumbling around with a screwdriver and the window and door lock panel, we threw our hands up in the air and booked it to the car shop before 5:00 closing time. We were able to get it in with five minutes to spare. But the bill came back with a $425 price tag that we were forced to spend. Sigh…
Can I just say how much I hate when unexpected expenses pop up like that? I mean, I know it’s part of life, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I know this blog is supposed to be about things that I like, am passionate about, etc. But for the record, I’d like to say that this definitely does not glitter.
Okay, well maybe there is a tiny bit of it that glitters. Walking out of the house in the morning and spending an extra 20 minutes with Mikey in the car is kind of nice. It was my turn to drive the car this morning, and I got to witness his morning commute from behind the wheel. It was kind of interesting to be in his shoes for a morning. And yesterday, he got to be in my shoes (high-heeled wedges, to be exact) when he drove my morning commute to drop me off downtown.
But when all is said and done, I’m happy to have my car back. And that reverting back to this teenage state of mind was fortunately only a 48-hour ordeal. Thank. You. Jesus.