Today I am thankful for the sounds of change.
This J Lo song cracks me up. I don't mind doing laundry, cooking and cleaning up for someone who is servicing me, helping with the bills or is in a relationship with me.
It's hard when I'm divorced, paying all of the bills and supporting an ex-husband I've asked to move out since October of 2013.
I feel like I'm being played.
Luckily he doesn't ask for too much...just food, gas money his auto insurance and cell phone bill in addition to what I pay to keep the household running.
If it's temporary and he uses this time to get on his feet, it feels like an investment. If he continues to do what he's been doing, I feel like I'm just enabling him.
When he asks for money, I think of this song. To be fair, I think of this song when I daydream about wanting things, too.
I know it's bad....
It's the truth.
Mike has driven me a few dealerships and picked me up from work. He didn't have to do that. The least I can do is pay for the petrol.
I'm looking for a third job.
I'm sure there is a breaking point, I just haven't found it yet.
Maybe I'm too numb to feel it when I break down.
**********
I spent over three hours at an Autonation dealership. It was a nightmare. I test drove two cars. One of them, a 2015 Nissan Versa, had engine issues and acted like it was in a wreck. The other was a beautiful 2012 Mitsubishi Galant with 30,000 miles on it. They wanted $9,000. I asked to see the inspection.
They kept putting off showing me the inspections on both cars. Then we went through the financing, the loan amount was $13,000. Okay....so the game was to keep me waiting to wear me out so I'd sign the papers.
My stalkers play that game. I get tired of going to the cops who don't do anything about their antics, so I just give in and let them fiddle fart around with my property and make my life a living hell.
For a dealership to do that.....I just walked out. They took so much time to help me that by the time the loan paperwork came, my insurance agent had closed the office. I couldn't get full coverage. They wouldn't let me take the car home.
I refused to sign and left the car there.
In my frustration, I went to my hometown and bought a car from the son of a car dealer/mechanic my father knew. He'd been there forty years. He said he'd take payments without checking my credit. My credit is fine but he said he knew I was honest, so my word was enough. The car was old enough that I knew what I was looking at when I popped the hood. The oil looked like oil. All the dashboard lights came on when I started the car. It needs a slight alignment. The tires are new. The timing belt looked new. The battery was new.
The car is old enough that when the kids start driving, I won't fear for their lives in a car crash. I let Michael drive it. He really liked how it handled.
I'll pay the car off in six months and that'll be more than enough time to find the trouble spots. Besides, if the car dies I'll know where to find the dealer.
After I bought the car, he pulled out the title. The car belonged to his wife. He told me he was sad to sell it but she fell in love with a jeep he had on the lot.
That's probably the first time a used car salesman's story about a car being owned by a little old lady held some merit. This car had about the same miles as the car I saw at AutoNation but it was much older, with less scratches, less cup holders and less than 1/3 of the price.
I'll go back tomorrow to pick the car up after my insurance company sends me proof of full coverage.
I guess the lesson is that sometimes it's better to stick with people you know. It was nice to see how the little town had changed over the years.
The little dairy I used to visit is now a tree nursery. I never knew why it shut down. I was reminded that the cows died in a flood. The owner of the dairy died trying to rescue the cows who were stuck in their pens.
On the lighter side, the cops still hide at the bottom of the hilly streets to ticket people for speeding when they pick up speed going down the hills.
Maybe this is an omen.
Maybe I should move back home.
I can't tell you the car I have.
Let's just say it's a classic that doesn't quit.
Kinda like me.
Love ya,
S.