~Franklin D. Roosevelt
Photo credit: nobody knows anything on Flickr
Thank you, Universe, for making things increasingly difficult. No, really, I appreciate it. Riiiiight!
We owned two vehicles, my ex and me, when the divorce happened. One, a family-type Buick thing, we had inherited from his folks. The other, a small pick-up truck, we had inherited from my parents. Don’t get me started on the financial reasons we had to “inherit” cars instead of “buying” them but they do factor into why I am single now. Point being, I let him have the car from his parents. I, in turn, took the pick-up and called my parents begging for a trade. Would they take back the ugly little truck and give me their way too far gone I-swore-to-all-that-is-holy-I-would-never-drive-one mini-van that had hundreds of thousands of miles on it? Yes. Yes, they would. I took it.
I’d had it almost a year when it broke down. Back to my folks it went and for a period of time I had to cram my kids and myself into the the cab of that teeny, tiny pick-up truck which I took back in the interim. The van managed to survive and begin to run again. It came home. My father suggested that I keep the stupid truck too … just in case.
The van broke down. Surprise? No. It’s the fuel line … or the fuel pump. I’m mechanically inclined to know the problem is along those lines. I’m also broke enough to not be able to afford to deal with something that major right now. Fuel filter? No problem. Those other issues? Not a shot in hell.
So, the offspring and I continued to cram ourselves into the little truck. Not ideal, trust me. This also limits one’s trips to “in town” only. If you have ascertained how much I abhor this town then you know what it is like for me to stay here day after day after day after day with nowhere to go. But, it got the boys to school and me to work.
And now? No bueno. Oh, it runs. Barely. I thought it was the spark plugs. Nope. I changed them. Air filter? Nope. Fuel filter? Nope. I was told today I would need to cough up the funds to have it hooked up to a diagnostics machine. Um, yeah. That involves two things I can not swing right now: 1) Money and 2) Time off work.
This is the part where I run religious interference. I am a preacher’s daughter. I am a missionary kid. Don’t tell me I should be praying for God to bring me suitable transportation. Those prayers have been said … with pretty serious faith for more then two years. I don’t say this to start any sort of spiritual debate, but this is just one very small example of why I am pretty pissed off at God right now.
Why the hell can’t I just get a break? A very small one will do because this rope swing that I'm on ... it sucks.