It has been AGES since Ive blogged but I feel like I really need to. I need an outlet and what could be better than blogging? I'm sure as shit not paying for a therapist! Ready? The Doctor is in...
My latest dilemma started on Thursday night, when I pulled up to Faneuil Hall and Scarlett, my car, died. I called Batman (yes, names have been changed to protect the guilty, uh, er, the innocent, I mean!) and he got my car started and followed me for the 6 minute trip home. My hero.
I went to the mechanic Friday morning and he told me that my AC compressor was going and I should have it fixed. He said it would be around $500 and that Id be able to wait until next week, which was great considering how broke I am this week! I left to run some errands and she just wasn't running right. She felt funny and I wasn't happy. I was heading home when some weird lights came on and since I was only a few minutes from the mechanic, I headed there.
My car, which had an AC compressor that was going but could wait a week for me to take care of, now had a snapped belt to boot. Awesome. I had no choice now, it needed to be fixed. Well my Ex called me and of course, I told him what had happened. He was livid that the mechanic was charging me the astronomical price he quoted and insisted that he could do it cheaper and faster , since the mechanic wasn't even sure he'd be able to return Scarlett before Monday. So I agreed and let him fix it, knowing he could handle anything car related. Or so I thought.
It turned into a disaster. Apparently, I have a sideways 6 engine-which means nothing to me- but is apparently a big pain in the ass. Tires had to be removed, engines lifted out...Then some harness piece broke and he called it a day. It was 10pm, he had started around 5. He was supposed to finish in the morning and Id be all set by 1pm. Yeah, not really. It was just one tiny, stupid thing after another and the smoking under the hood after his test drive just delayed everything even more. It was close to 5pm before I slid in the drivers seat.
|The boys hard at work.|
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