The other day, I went to the bank to make a deposit for work. I do this all the time. I ran into an woman who used to work at the paper, where she relayed a conversation between her and a young man who works for her paper. This man and I met through the Chamber Dinner we both went to for our papers. Apparently, he told her that I was "very cute" when they were discussing the dinner. Luckily, she told him I was also "very taken" which I'm sure he knew because of that whole baby belly I have going on. And because we talked about the baby and my BF. In any case, it was a nice compliment. Especially when my face is pimply, my stomach is huge and my ankles are starting to swell. "Very cute" is totally something I need to hear.
What I didn't need? FOR MY FUCKING CAR TO DIE when I got to the parking lot of the bank that day. Car was dead. Car tried very hard to start but couldn't. So I left the car there and got a ride back to work. CS and I went down to the bank later and somehow the car started again. I started it up twice more that night, but the next morning? CAR WAS DEAD. And car stayed dead until CS and my brother put in new spark plugs. Then it started up right after they put it all back together. I had my car one day last week, Friday I could start it up and go, go, go. But Saturday afternoon? DEAD. Still dead right now. I tried to start it this afternoon, hoping that it was just a fluke and I could get it started because obviously it's just fucking with me. CS has been reading some mechanics book in an effort to see what's wrong. I'm really hoping to get it started and drive it the hell down the hill to the car shop and get it checked out by someone with car tools and that computer program to run codes.
I'm terribly frustrated because I hate being without a car. Sure, I'm saving gas money. But I also have to rely on other people to get from point A to point B. WTF Car? I was so good to you.
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