Angie's Entry Part One:

I split this into two parts because it's so big and I posted them so you chould be able to read one and then two instead of them backwards. Make sence?

So I’ve got a few spare minutes today before I send in my final payroll so I thought I’d try and write something that resembles a blog entry. As I’m sure most of you gathered from my last post, things in my life aren’t the best, and yes I know, they could be worse, but when bad things are happening to you, are you really looking at the bright side? Don’t bullshit, no one is that freakin optimistic. If you are, then you’re a freakin saint. Congrats. Honestly. I worked the Labor Day holiday (Sept 5th), and the only way I agree to work any Monday holiday is that I get paid double time. Hey, if I have to drive into work while everyone else is at the State Fair, up at their summer cabin or just sleeping in and catching up on TV shows, then I should be compensated.

I even put in some OT during that week cause there’s some bills that are behind. I knew I had a decent check coming from my PT job so I was relieved to see some of my bills being paid down.

But then of course, my car has other plans for my checking account. Of course she does.

While I’m on my way to my part time job on Tuesday (this last Tuesday) my brake light goes on. It’s that nice shocking red and mine looks something like this: (!)(P) BRAKE. With the word ‘Brake’ under the attention getting symbols. So because my checks had been delivered late, as in, right as I walked out the front door, after my part time job, I had to go back to my full time job.

Which is when I made the phone call to my trusty, always glad to see me walk in the door, mechanic. Who is a great guy, by the way. I don’t mean to imply that he’s EVER ripped me, my mom or my step-dad off. So he tells me, yes, I need to bring it in asap. So I call my mom, arrange to have her meet me at his shop in the morning so I can drop off the Prix and she can drop me off at work. I walked into the shop and asked if my normal parking spot was reserved.

Mechanic had called me by nine am. I dropped Prix off at seven am. If he was calling so quickly, it had to be bad. Nothing in my life is ever easy. So naturally I expected the worst. And I was right. I had been leaking a pinkish orange substance all weekend, but the functionality of my car seemed status quo. But the liquid was in fact antifreeze from the water pump, that needed to be replaced. Also, the BRAKE (!)(P) light was on because the (big word coming up) proportionating valve to the right front tire needed to be replaced. And after all was said and done? $300 big ones.

Yes folks, that’s right. All the extra hours I’d put in before had just been swallowed up by my precious chariot leaving me very little to get through the week on and nothing for the bills that are backing up.

I called Mechanic back a few hours later to see when chariot would be ready for pick up and to ask if I could gladly pay him Tuesday for a car repair today. Actually, I asked if I could pay him half last Wednesday and the rest this coming Wednesday. He assured me that was fine then told me he noticed Prix had been starting roughly. I quickly shushed him and told him that if we don’t talk about it, then we don’t have to fix it. He gently informed me that while he understands that money is tight, Prix needs a new fuel pump. Can you hear the cash register ringing??

Yes that’s right! I have to put another $600 into the Prix before winter (in the next six to eight weeks), if she lasts that long. Her prognosis is not good. And do you know why that is? Because I have less than four, that’s right FOUR more weeks four more payments to make and the loan is totally paid off. I will be sans car payment! Of course I have to put three times that, just to keep her running!! I picked up Prix around five that afternoon and considering driving head first into the fastest, biggest semi I could find on the freeway and hoping that my life insurance policies (yes, I have two) would cover everything. Of course, I didn’t do such a heinous thing.