My Life Is a Country Song

Shit. Double Shit.

The front pipe on my car just fell off. It’s been going for months, so this is no big shock, but, still, SHIT! It’s going to cost something to the tune of $1,000 to fix. Do I have this kind of scratch lying around? Nope. I mean, I can do it, but it’s going to be hard. Really, really hard.


At least it fell off at home, so I wasn’t left stranded on the road. And I have a good mechanic, who will only do that which is necessary to fix it. But damnit, I really didn’t need this right now.

Just exactly how did my life become a country song?

10 responses to “My Life Is a Country Song

  1. Oh Sassy, I’m sorry to hear about this glitch–just try to think of it as nothing more than a glitch, though.

    At least your dog hasn’t just died, and you don’t have a case of empties rolling around the bed of your old Chevy. Or I’m guessing you don’t have these things.

  2. Nope. No dead dogs or empty bottles. I found someone who could look at it today, and I just had a lovely walk home (3 miles). It’s a beautiful fall day.

  3. I went to click on your link at my blog and I said, “why do I not have her link up”? well your life could be worse, you could be me, it must be time for you to build adult big wheels and make a fortune or do they already? empty bottles dead dogs, sounds like my last fun night out.

  4. What the hell kind of car do you drive when the front pipe costs THAT much?
    Not a Porsche, is it? Or one of those planet-eating behemoths Robyn drives?

    Sheesh, Sassy! My car only cost six grand total, and it’s brand new!

    America … I’ll never understand it …

    Total bummer, though.
    Big, hug-style commiserations.
    Beer wil help.

  5. Lose the front pipe, lose the cadalitic converter. It’s a lowly little old Nissan Sentra (what passes for a compact car in this country). It’s cute. It has a sticker that says “Peacemonger” on it. It’s probably not worth the scratch to fix it, but I can’t afford another one.

    The good news is that it should be ready today. The guy’s nice. I had a lovely walk home from the shop.

  6. A nice guy who can fix your car sounds like good news to me (though I’d prefer a nice girl mechanic like that Maggie Chascarillo) …

    Hoorah for you for driving a small, economical car. Good sticker, too.

  7. “Planet eating behemoth?” Hey! It’s not quite that big, just a little long. I used to have PT Cruiser which was very cute, but my husband thought it was like driving a lawn mower and traded it for the beast. or mini-beast, maybe. At least it’s not a Hummer. that’s something, huh?

  8. Apologies, Robyn, but I could still drive figure eights in your car’s luggage space.

    Over here, Richmond Council in London is now charging parking by car size, really slamming heavy charges on anything over a compact, and outrageously punitive mountains of cash to park SUVs (we can’t buy anything as big as a Pacifica over here; the roads aren’t built for that kind of thing).
    There’s very positive reaction to this all over the country, as if Detroit needed any more bad news …

  9. I’ve heard about that tax. Good for London!

    I have some wonderful news regarding the price. The guy quoted me $1,000. It cost $506.43. Oh hurrah. I even have the car back.

    Plus, I’ve walked six miles in absolutely wonderful weather.

    Phew. I missed a day of work, but hey, life happens.

  10. A lovely walk in lovely weather, and $500 you didn’t think you had this morning …


    And Old Knudsen on your trail … who needs internet dating with a man of his … er … qualities?

    I’m so glad your day turned out better than it started.
    But now it’s way past my bedtime and I’ve got witch-hunting in the morning. Now all I’ve got to do is try to get to sleep without thinking of stripey tights …

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