As though I didn't have enough problems in my life I've just been handed a new one.
Mom found the insurance slip for the car the other day so I went to get it inspected today. I took it to a friends place and they kinda 'pre-inspected' it. Well it's a damn good thing we did that because I'd have driven away with a 'rejected' sticker instead of the expired one I have now.
The right-front wheel is bad. I knew that, I have a spare to replace it. And not one of those crappy little doughnut spares either, I have a real tire. I don't trust those cheap-ass spares and you guys shouldn't either.
I have a few small rust holes in the body. I hate thet they're there and I want them fixed, but I don't have the money right now.
Those things I might have gotten overlooked, but they also found holes in my floorboards and a rust hole in the frame on the passenger side.
Hole in the frame = major problem.
Those of you that know me from reading this or in person know how much I love that car. I would rather have broken an arm or leg than have a hole in that frame. I'll heal, cars don't.
Maybe I should put my copy of Steven King's 'Christine' back in the glove box...
Still, it's nothing that can't be fixed, but it'll cost money. I would wait till I was healed up and working again, but I need the car to get around and get Nate to and from work. It's still drivable, but I can't get it inspected.
I think Mom is going to cover it, but it still fucking sucks. I hate asking her for money, especially after all she's spent to help me already since I've been sick, but the car is something of a family heirloom and since I'm already going to spend the rest of my life trying to pay that back I might as well get the car fixed too, but it still fucking SUCKS.
So I'm going to have to drive it as-is till I finish my transcriptioning class and then take it to the body shop that Big John suggested to me. I'd rather take it to my cousin Eric, the best auto painter I know, but he doesn't really seem interested in doing it. I can't really blame him though. It's tricky working for relatives sometimes.
So this is pretty much the lowest point in my life. But then, that's nothing new. With few exceptions, every time you read this my life is a little shittier than the last time you read it. It could be a lot worse, hell, by rights it probably should be worse, but you'd think there would be the occasional 'up' to somewhat balance out the 'downs'.
The scary thing is that I SHOULD be depressed, but for some strange reason I'm not. In a way I'm very happy and content, but I've studied enough psychology to know that I only feel that way because I'm denying my fear and anxiety. I'm repressing all the negatives and that's not good. I really don't know how much more I can take before I hit the bottom HARD.
Now I'm gonna go play some Splinter Cell and kill some motherfuckers.
Stay tuned. Things are surely gonna get worse.