It was just on Monday that I felt like I finally had a false sense of control over my life. I mean, I knew it was false but it was a fun feeling. Like, everything could fall into place. I had found two potential day-cares that could work and settled on those. I had gotten so much done around the house and had a plan for the next few months. It’s amazing how quickly that sense of control can be jerked out from under you. It’s not like something horrible happened, I mean, when I put things into perspective, there is some shit that could truly rock my world right now and I am so thankful that has not happened.
But here I am, trying to be smart with my money, trying to save for this child, etc. And then yesterday I go tour one last daycare, that I was pretty sure I wouldn’t even like but I decided to go. So, I go, and I didn’t like it. it was just the kind of place where you walk in, and all 4 infants are crying and it seems chaotic and it was just a big NO in my book. Okay, cool no big deal.
So I go outside to my car, and it won’t start. I figure, it’s probably the battery. So I call my friend S who lives half a mile away. I had plans to hang out with her that night anyway. Could you come get me? Or help me jump my car? I’m only half a mile away. But, no, unfortunately her boyfriend had taken her car to work that day, and she was left with his stick-shift car which she couldn’t drive (and I can’t either). So, I call Tyler. Tyler is in a meeting across town. So, I decided I’ll just walk to S’s house and deal with it later.
Later comes, and I call the closest person who could come, my dad. My dad arrives. He can’t get the car to jump. He thinks he’s just not making a good connection. So 30 minutes later we call AAA. We leave to go get some dinner and of course AAA shows up just as our food arrives at the table, so we rush back to the car. AAA can’t get it to jump. It’s not the battery. (damn it).
So AAA calls us a tow truck. Tow truck finally arrives at 8:45pm. Tows my car a few miles to a shop that we trust and has worked on our Honda cars before.
I finally get home just a little before 10pm, exhausted. My routine bedtime is 9pm. I’m tired of dealing with car trouble all night.
Oh, and let me just put a little TMI in there. Ya’ll, I had to go to the bathroom. You know, go-go. I had to go since 4pm that day. 8:30 was rolling around and I was like, I HAVE TO GO. And can I just put out a little thank you to Trader Joes? My dad and I decided to kill some time in there so I headed for the bathroom and thank you universe, thank you for letting it be a clean, nice smelling, SINGLE stall only bathroom. Complete privacy. Trader Joe’s, you were the angel of my night.
Back to the story.
So, in the morning, I get up, take Tyler’s car (which is from 1997 by the way) to the shop, so that I can give the mechanic my keys (they didn’t have a drop box). So I’m late to work, which is fun too. Before I leave work, Tyler tells me they called him and it’s “the starter” which is going to cost $600. Sucks right? I don’t just have $600 to spend on whatever the Hell I want right now. I have a freaking child on the way.
So I rush home to get him, walk in and he says “your car isn’t ready today.” What? Why not? You said it was? “Yeah, well they called back. And that weird noise that we had been hearing in your car, well it’s a flaw with the engine, some issue with that particular civic. It’s going to cost us another $450 to repair, and we don’t really have a choice on that matter.” Seriously? Seriously? I’ll be dropping a thousand dollars on my car tomorrow? I want to melt into the floor. I want to look in the mirror and check for bruises because surely I have just been punched in the gut.
Tyler is moping. He is visibly distressed and not tolerating this news well either. His head is hanging low. His voice is weak. His feet shuffle across the floor.
I can only respond “Well, this certainly calls for some ice cream!” as I pull out the Mint Chocolate Chip from the freezer.
“I’m going to go take a nap” he says.
I eat. He retreats.
False sense of control gone. We could have used the $1k to help pay for the new car we actually NEED. Driving Tyler’s 1997 Honda around just really is not fun. Thank god it DRIVES but I’m terrified because the tires are old. Everything is old. This car is ghetto. Ghetto as in, the inside driver’s side door handle came off so you have to pull this little metal bar to get the door open.
I know we’ll get through this. We always do. I just HATE it. Will we ever get ahead?