So yeah. 2007 is fixin' to be the year of the fix. I haven't posted b/c (again) I've been moving through another repair related funk. This one has another tale of woe that starts at the end of the Fringe.
Story time:
Fringe tends to take the wind out of you, even if you aren't involved in a show. (It's a lot of theatre to engage in 10 days. Wipe out!) So after grabbin' lunch and "I hate Kenny G" at the PWC I went to drop Dorajar off so she could see more shows and I could get some house frass done before the Fringe Closing Gala. I noticed my car squeeley squeeley when I cornered and then hard steering. My first thought? Greeeeeat. Power Steering going out, buddy? I check for drips and peruse my Haynes manual. Fluid levels are copacetic. What up?
Monday (After the arm workout which was my commute) I started investigating more sources/possibilities on line and make an appointment for Wednesday at my neighborhood version of Jay Pea Tea at the recommendation of Redwright. My rationale was that I'd take Wednesday off, then get my car that same evening. I suggest to the mechanic that it may (might) be the Power Steering, but I wasn't sure.
Before taking off for work on Tuesday, I hit the windshield wipers to get the refuse of my car from the previous evening's storms. They were sloooooow. Check the a/c. Low blowing, even when set to "Hi". Waaaaaaaitaminnit! The ALTERNATOR!!! THAT is a much cheaper fix than any power steering nonsense. Either the alternator, or the belts. One of the two. In spite of some very sluggish accelaration, I figure I'll limp in to work and the worst case scenario if it doesn't start I'll have it towed.
Except on 35E, my panel went out. Couldn't see how fast I was going save for the speed of other cars. I'm cool, I thought. As long as I'm moving the battery is powering me along. Except when I slowed down to get to the 494 SB exit before Tamarack. Beeeeeeeeyyyyyuuuuuuuuuu. My car powered down faster than the Death Star Tractor Beam when Obi-Wan shut it off. I scuttle over underneath the "Exit Ahead" sign on the shoulder of the freeway. My workplace, 1/2 a mile away.
'Kay. This is why I have a AAA card.
It just wasn't in my wallet. I start to get shakey. Then I call information who hooks me up and then I go through about 7-8 transfers before "Lloyd" finds my info online and tells me to sit tight, it might be a while (Since the storm apparently knocked trees into cars all over the East metro, they were a little busy) I shuffle over into the passenger seat while morning rush hour whizzes past. I call work and say "Not gonna happen". I call Dorajar, my folks (Who tell me what they think it is simultaneously) and I wait. For an hour and a half. And I hadda go to the bafroom something fierce.
Tow-boy shows up and gets me hitched to the wagon. Instead of a quiet, sullen trip I decide to pick his brain regarding funniest fares, funniest tows, repair woes, what HE thinks it is, and the joys of road construction. ("I'd like to meet the a$$hole who thought construction on two corresponding freeways at the same time was a good idea" says he)
I'm dropped off with a laugh and a handshake, I give my new diagnosis to the guys. And trudge home. Karma liked me so much, they made it extra muggy outside. So I was sweating through my work duds and my hairspray ran into my eyes.
Needless to say, I was in a foul mood. They called and said "Maybe check it out sometime tomorrow since they're backed up" (More scheduled time off) When I got it back and paid the $300 (Which mom and dad started in on me as to how it was a rip off.) I was also handed a laundry list of other maladies that need addressed, some serious and others that can wait. That ended up looking to be to the tune of $800. At least I know what's wrong now.
I go home and do the one thing I can do (Change my brake light) and pout.
I am patiently awaiting the silver lining to all this nonsense. I'm fairly certain I p#$$ed someone off in a past life, and have been given 2007 as a penance. Soooooo, good thoughts are requested. Not suggestions/ideas/pity, just positive thoughts. My co-worker gave me her Jamaican Luck Doll that she bought on her vacation. She's looking at me right now...with all her cloth/karma/Jamaicany goodness.
Bring it on, mama.
3 comments:
So in your blog about two years ago towards the end of the year, you mentioned that odd numbered years are just not kind to you (or something to that effect). Hang on tight mon frere, only four more months 'til an even numbered year!
And goodly wishes for you to fly through the rest of this year *hugs*
Ding Ding. I was just thinking that very same thing. I half expected it to start raining on my walk home.
Some days you're Snoopy, and other's Charlie Brown.
It sounds like you and G have similar car maladies. We are slooooowly working through the list of woes on my car (she's old) But his car, we get the problem fixed, and something else crazy happens. Right now it makes a noise like the Tardis arriving or taking off. Afraid of what the mechanics will say.
But, Portana's right...only four months to go, and things will surely be looking up.
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