FML

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Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck!

I knew it was a bad idea to get out of bed this morning. I just had a feeling. An overwhelming ickiness that I should have known presaged nothing but woe.

I was just feeling miserable this morning, and it’s been a bunch of little, inconsequential things. The cats woke me up by attacking invisible things on the blinds. Alan was annoying me. We didn’t have bread when I went to make breakfast. I tried to write an entry this morning and the formatting went all to hell and cut off the last half of it, so I ended up having to delete it. And there were no snow peas at the grocery store! Rawr!

But I tried to stay positive. I really did.

I even agreed to go to Wal-Mart, a store I loath with at least 85% of the fibers of my being. We were planning on getting a small gas grill for our deck that we could also take camping and they have good prices.

Unfortunately, my feeling of ickiness about today was entirely justified. Less than two block from our house the car just died. No mechanical seizing up or funky noises. It just shut off.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Seriously?

We pulled over and tried to get it started again. No luck. Even though the oil light came on, the dipstick showed a perfectly respectable oil level. Alan called Pez and had him come pick him up so they could get our jumper cables. Of course, that didn’t work, not that I expected it to, since it wasn’t even remotely acting like a dead battery, what with the lights coming on and the engine at least trying to turn over. Then they went and got gas, because I thought it might be empty and the gauge broken. No luck there either. So then they went and got a towing strap. Pez has a Hummer, so it can tow pretty much anything. After a couple minor mishaps with the towing strap failing, we got it back up to our complex’s parking lot.

Only now there’s nothing to do with it. My dad says that based on what I said, it sounds like an electrical problem. Unfortunately, that’s not helpful because it’s not something Alan has the ability to fix or even to check thoroughly, though he did check the fuses and the relays. That still leaves quite a lot of things that it could be.

So.

Yeah.

Fuck me.

So we need professional intervention here and that won’t be cheap. Nor will the solution.

Clearly, I need to be working if we don’t want this shit to keep causing major disruptions in our life and completely fucking us over. The irony of it is of course that without a car, I can’t work. Or rather, my options are seriously fucking limited to places within walking distance and along bus routes. Fortunately, with Pez living here, he and Alan can ride together. I wish I could just get rid of the damn thing. We can’t really afford a new one either. It’s a pain in the fucking ass.

It’s just not something we need right now.

~Liz