feste_sylvain

(Yes, this is a piss-and-moan post, but I'll try to make it entertaining.)


Previously, on feste_sylvain:
6/2000: new house is purchased and family moves in
10/2001: company which bought my start-up feels recessionary pinch, cuts all our salaries
5/2002: aforementioned company lays us all off, after depleting our savings
11/2002: after a boggling six months unemployed, I take less-than-satisfactory job
fast-forward
2/2006: I finally look for and land a satisfactory job; looking forward to repairing family finances
3/2006: car decides to hemorrhage money
4/2006: car rejects initial repair, hemorrhages more money
5/2006: absolutely wonderful mechanic identifies automotive aneurism, hemorrhage stops
6/2006: I look forward to repairing family finances



I drove home on Friday, June 2, feeling good from a company celebration over another large sale. The car is handling wonderfully.

I wind up not driving at all over the weekend.



Monday, June 5, the following all occured before 10 am:

1. my cat knocked everything off my bed-side drawers, including my company badge and glasses behind my bed.
   
2. my car key fell out of the hole in my back pocket, prompting me to switch wallet and key sides
   
3. with the addition of the cellphone, this left my ass utterly imbalanced -- all heavy things on the same side
   
4. I finally get the ATM card from the new bank in the mail, but no sign of the PIN (separate mailing)
   
5. I still haven't gotten tamidon anything for her birthday
   
6. I start my car, and it sounds like a Harley -- obviously, I have a hole somewhere in my exhaust system
   
7. I go to print out the Requirements document, and the printer is busy spitting out reams (literally) of blank pages, interspersed with pages with a single line of noise along the top
   

The next morning, after a terrible night's sleep, I finally voice some of my piled-up anxieties to tamidon, who helps put them all in perspective and a tentative battle-plan is devised: I will call around for a decent price estimate from muffler shops, hoping that the one near my allergist will be competitive. Then on Wednesday, I will drop off the car, walk to my allergist, do the monthly shot-in-the-arms thing, and then walk back and pick up the car, minus a bunch of money from the check she'll have to write ahead of time.



Tuesday, 6/6/6:

1. I start the car, and sure enough, it still sounds like a Harley.
   
2. I drive to work, and part-way there, the car suddenly gets MUCH LOUDER. I MEAN, REALLY LOUD. LOUD LIKE "I CAN'T HEAR THE RADIO" LOUD. LOUD LIKE MY WHOLE HEAD IS RINGING, NOT JUST MY EARS.
   
3. A cowardly piece of my undercarriage bails, and I watch it bounce into traffic in my rear-view mirror.
   
4. I note the presence of a Midas shop within walking distance of work.
   

So I call up tamidon, after the ringing in my ears settles down, and bring her up to speed with the new circumstances.



I call the new bank, and discover to my relative joy that I hadn't received the new PIN in the mail because, it being a joint account, my PIN is the same as tamidon's PIN. I trot across the street on this wonderful sunny day, go to the bank branch's ATM, and activate the card by using it to read our account balances. There is enough for a muffler and/or exhaust replacement! Hooray! Kind of!

So with access to resources, I drive my ABSURDLY LOUD CAR TO THE MUFFLER SHOP. They can get to it today, they will likely be able to repair it today (after determining just what needs to be repaired), but after the money-hemorrhaging debacles of the last few months, I let them know that if the estimate comes in too high, I'll just be selling my car for parts and scrimping for a new one. As I'll be walking back to work, I give them my cell-phone number instead of my desk number, and head back.

About half an hour later, my hip vibrates. I answer the cell phone, and they give me the diagnosis: all that's wrong is that a proprietary VW clamp ($50) has shattered, and that it will take about a half-hour of labor ($25) to fix. This is great news! (Relatively speaking.) I exuberantly give them the go-ahead! They hang up, and then my cell phone informs me that I've just used up the last of its battery, and it shuts down. Good news must be accompanied by bad news.

I call back Midas, and let them know that the "we're done" phone call will have to come to my desk, and give them that number.



I am now convinced that this was my final warning, and that I'll have to use the extra car life that this operation gives me to find a new car. As I have direct deposit, I am automatically qualified for a car loan from my new credit-union; I hadn't intended to take advantage of this so soon, but how many times do I have to be hit in the face with a shovel?

Fortunately, I may be able to make it all the way to the end-summer clearances. I hope.

I look forward to repairing family finances.