2005-02-01 @ 8:12 p.m.
Today when I opened up AOL, there was a fascinating link that just had me hyperventilating in anticipation... The Evolution of Tara Reid. WOW! Really? From what to what?
Next up....The Evolution of Dental Floss.
Well, if days were ever named after cheese, this would have been called Crap-a-zola. Well, except for the sunshine part. That was nice.
It was actually a continuation from yesterday. It appears, that despite the fact that I spent $235 "fixing" my car a week ago, it wasn't actually fixed. heh, heh. Of course, silly me. Why would I think that? Well I guess when mechanics tell you, "Ah shucks, ma'am all you really needed was a couple of clamps and valves replaced and it's actually less than we quoted you" (smile, smile), ya kinda fall for it.
Of course, when he said that I jumped for joy. I had been quoted $285, and suddenly it was $50 less and it was really about $300 less than I thought because, you see, I'm a pessimist and I always think things are going to be far worst than they are, so when they aren't you can always depend on me to turn to Schroeder and say "Hit it" and do the Happy Snoopy Dance.
So I wrote out my check, and actually had enough money, only because I have been working for the last three months. Usually I'm flat broke by about the 10th of the month and it was really exciting. Having a car. And having money. Whee!
So the car has been working wonderfully...starting like a dream on cold mornings....winning NASCAR races on the weekends. But then on Monday morning when I was driving to work, I was suddenly met with my old nemesis...that which is called SMOKE broiling up from under the hood like my car is on fire thang.
Yeah, its always a little embarrassing calling attention to yourself at a stoplight with huge billows of smoke pouring out of your car. Ya kind of give a little salute to the person in the next lane as if to say, "yeah, I know I'm nearly on fire. You can pull ahead if you wish."
So, by time I pulled into our lot at work my car looked like a failed suicide car bomb. I had been early for our weekly meeting, but I did feel the need to pop my hood and check out the smoke situation before I went in and when I did, the engine was sizzling like a grill at Denney's. I actually stood there for a good 2 minutes, transfixed, like what do I do? Do I call 911? I mean, its not exactly on fire, but it could be soon. I finally decided to just lower the hood and go to my meeting. And then if I heard a bunch of fire engines gathering out in our parking lot, I'd hope that I remembered to pay my car insurance.
But nothing happened. Went to the meeting. It was pretty nondescript. My boss is looking a little better. Me and "J" were the main chatterboxes. Everyone else just sat there like they were extras in "Dawn of the Dead". Of course, "J" and I are both wacky Aquarians. He just had a birthday and mine is coming up on February 12th. We decided we should have a joint birthday cake. Not sure how this went over with the boss since she just recently did away with employee birthday cake requirement. It seems she used to go out and buy them out of her own pocket and then the birthday person wouldn't show up and then the staff would get stuck eating them.
And the problem with that is?
So, we'll see. Then I went to our Qigong Class (Which I last week incorrectly identified as Tai Chi). Man, in week two, I'm like ready to star in my own geek version of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon". Of course, they don't usually let mentally ill people handle swords and shit, but I'm all about the crazy goose and saluting the sun.
And then I went to see my case mgr. She gave me a much needed pep talk from my weekend meltdown. She helped me get all my Section Eight stuff together and told me to have it mailed by the end of the week. Period. Otherwise I lose out on everything I been waiting for for almost four years. Ok, got it.
I then had to head back out to the Ford Tempo of Doom. I had called the repair shop which had done the work last week and they said to bring it in. I was a nervous wreck driving it back, wondering how long it would take to start smoking again, and fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, it started it Hollywood Exploding Car bit, right as I pulled into Napa Auto Parts. So they looked at it and the mechanic said that one of the clamps they had put on it had failed or needed tightening, so they would fix it. Fine. Good. Great! Yay!
But what was said next, was what made me really angry. I had had really good repoire with the owner Jeff. We had been talking nicely and kidding around and all and then he just blankly said, "Well, it does still have a severe oil leak."
And I was like Huh? And he was like, well we only replaced the clamps. It was still leaking oil when you left. It has a really bad oil leak.
Ok, I didn't say it like that because I'm a total milquetoast. But I'm thinking, well, you know, you did send me out of your repair shop last Monday night with the cool, calm feeling that everything was repaired, as in, you know... REPAIRED....not, kinda sorta repaired. Not...oh we only put some clampie thing on the tubie thing for $235 as a stop gap measure, because damn witty, we didn't want you to worry your pretty little head about that massive oil leak under the hood. No, you came here, we repaired it, you paid us. We're all good. Tell all your friends about us, take our business cards. Bye now."
So, yesterday they "tightened" a clamp and I drove home. But you know what? I didn't trust that it was fixed. And I was nervous about driving out to "A"s appointment this morning because its about 7 miles to his office and the smokey-catch-on-fire thing usually occurs at about Mile 4. But "A" called and canceled my appointment this morning because his daughter was sick, so I didn't go out in my car until early afternoon.
I had a lot of things to do today. I had to copy my paperwork for Section Eight. I was going to take the art newsletter to Johnson. I needed to go to the post office. I had to run to the office to get the gift cards for my first outing with my new client tomorrow. And my first stop was to go to a food pantry. I'm without food stamps and I still have a week left and blowing $235 on my car has left me broke.
But then when I was almost there, guess what happened? Gee witty, what? Smoke billowing up from under the hood? Why yes, skippy, how did you know?
So I pulled my car in back of the food pantry place. It was a place I had never been before. I was very upset about my car but I went in anyways. Free food, you know. There were about 45 people sitting around chatting. I sat next to a handful of Filipino people and I'm sorry. Ever since my problems with the Filipino mail order whore, I pretty much have a low tolerance level for the lovely people of the Philippines. I basically could not stand listening to them yammering at each other. Why do they talk so loudly? It was really getting on my last nerve, so I just decided to leave. Fuck free food.
So I went out in my car, which had finally stopped smoking and called my mother on my company cell phone. Usually I'm extremely cautious about the use of my work cell phone, but I just had a meltdown on the phone. I was weeping and sobbing. And like I always do I went into the wishing some rich guy would come along and scoop up my loveliness and make my life better. Not sure why I always revert to this scenario. It's totally unrealistic but I just do. I mean I just know there's someone out there who would like a quirky, insecure art girl who can play the score from "Pippin" and quote "Austin Power" movies.
So my mom said she would call the guy at the car shop for me and then I could call her back. So I sat crying in the car the entire time I was waiting to call her back, surreptitiously watching the people leaving the pantry with overflowing bags of groceries. Damn. My meltdowns are so ill-timed.
I finally called her back and she said I could bring the car back and he said he would look at it. (wow, how generous)She also said she had told him some fibs about me having to borrow the original money to pay him to somehow elicit guilt I guess (this was not officially sanctioned by witty, however, since I don't lie to people). Fortunately though, she didn't tell him that I was mentally ill. Usually she'll tell people that, so that they'll feel a certain level of pity, reserved only for those afflicted by brain wigginess.
I did manage to drive my car back to his place, after a brief stop at the grocery store, since I've been without food for two days. I felt embarrassed going in, although I'm not sure why. I guess he should feel embarrassed. He had told my mother that my car needed at least $2000 worth of work. Heh. If I had $2000 to toss around, I certainly wouldn't be frittering it away on a 13 year old car, would I?
I once again had to tell him about the magical smoke clouds that seem to erupt out of the hood at about Mile Four. He didn't seem quite as friendly as my first two visits. All he kept saying was "uh huh", "uh huh", like I was describing some invisible boogie man I had just seen in the closet or something. So he drove me back to my house and all the way, I felt the need to describe over and over again, about the smoke, and, gee, I wonder what it is? And all he really said was that it cost money to power clean the engine to see where the oil leak was.
Oh, you mean like you should have done originally, asshole?
I mean, if it had cost more originally and they had actually FIXED it, that would have been fine. But this saying it was fixed and basically all they did was put a clamp on for $235 just sucks. And I had really thought they were good guys.
And what is making me especially anxious, is that tomorrow I have a very busy day. I have to get to my office to get those gift cards. I have to get the newsletter to Johnson. I have to meet with my client for our very first outing. And I don't want to cancel because how would that look? How could she ever trust me again? And I'm extremely nervous about meeting with her one on one anyways. Extremely. As in lets get pharmaceutically prepared nervous.
So, unfortunately, I'm going to have to do a car exchange thing with my mother. Ugh. She's going to drive here. Then I have to drive her back north. Then I have do all my stuff. Then I have to drive back north. And then she'll probably have to drive me back to that garage. And tomorrow night is my art class. And I really need to be somewhat happy and relaxed and bathed to go there.
And then who knows if the car will work? And whether he will be charging me any additional money? I told him I don't have any money until I get my SSD check on the third.
So I think the Evolution of Witty is way more interesting than Tara Reid. Its just that she has better boobs.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty