Today my car broke down on me for the first time.
Oh boy. This is going to be another one of those #firstworldproblems posts detailing my day of utter calamity. Well, it felt calamitous to me.
And the day started off so well! I woke up early, jumped out of bed, had a super productive morning cooking and cleaning, prepared all of my work meals…the sun was shining, the birds and bees were singing!
Then I got in the car.
I made it about twenty-two twenty-thirds of the way to work until KAPUT, the car dies on me. Hmm. So I sat around staring at a soccer oval for an hour, waiting for roadside assistance to come and jump my battery back to life. When the guy rocked up he took the keys, tried the ignition and…it worked. Arsey bastard of a car! But no it soon cut out again and he figured out that my alternator was buggered (as I nodded wisely, pretending to know what on earth an alternator is). He jump started the old thing and said that it should get me to the car shop. Yessir!
So I jumped in, got as far as around the corner and PFFT, dead. Well. Okay.
So this meant another phonecall for another call out, and another hour sitting around enjoying the sights of an empty soccer ground and the odd passer by. I suppose there are worse places to break down, since I was within reach of some shops which, thankfully, had a bathroom BUT! Before I could take advantage of such amenities the tow truck arrived and we headed off with my poor car in tow. Literally.
So the auto-electricians confirm that my alternator is busted (“Hmm, yeah the alternator,” she nods sagely) so that’s another $400 odd to add to the small fortune I threw at the car last month. Excellent news. Over 400 shmackos in the hole and I’m out the two days’ pay that would cover it because I can’t bloody drive the car.
So I start off on my lonely, self-pitying trek home from the shop which will take me about an hour and change, wind whipping my already-chapped lips into submission because life just isn’t trying enough I guess. I stop halfway home at Maccas to finally get my long-overdue bathroom break, and as I stand in line to get a Happy Meal with orange juice like an eight year old, I think man…
I could positively murder someone for a Coke right now.
I didn’t. Murder anyone, or get a Coke. I just sat there eating my orange juice Happy Meal and wondering where I went wrong with my life. I didn’t really want to eat anything at all, but I’d feel guilty about using their bathroom without purchasing anything. So soon after – or more specifically 45 mins later – I trudged home, thoroughly and soundly beaten by day number 208.
I swear to God it started out so well!
So if it’s alright with you, I’m going to go lie in my bed, eat a whole block of chocolate (try and stop me) and pretend like it all never happ-
-WOW. Literally as I type that sentence my cable cuts out. That’s it, I’m done. Don’t let the door hit you Monday.