February 26, 2003 - 11:10 am
So yeah, about that tomfoolery...
Martel and I had post-Dar plans for martinis and shenanigans, but Old Blue done fucked those all up!
Ya see, when we finally left the house, we drove around town a bit, eventually heading into Ypsi, in an attempt to find people to go with us. Well, once we passed Eastern's phallic tower, my car started making "Your door is open/lights are on/keys are still in the ignition" kinda noises. A quick check and a befuddled look later, Martel keenly observed that my temp gauge had risen like R. Kelly at a day care center.
So it's 4 fucking degrees outside, and my car is overheating. I throw up the heat, and it spouts all of the lovely cold air I had asked for in FUCKING AUGUST! In my head, I'm thinking "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck!", but I take a deep breath and calmly mutter "shit shit shit." I pull into the only parking lot around, which happens to be the darkest one in Michigan.
"Ah, I've got some coolant in my trunk" I say, "that should do it." *giggle...I'm an idiot* Did I mention it was freezing? Yeah, it was that special cold where touching things hurt. Needless to say, my fingers have had much more nimble moments than when they tried to get the cap off the antifreeze and pour it. I got the shit all over my hands and half of my engine. A horrid smell, a slight burning sensation, and the coldest fingers I remember in a logn time later, did it do any good? Yeah, for about five minutes. Of course, that wasn't long enough to get home, so who the fuck cares?!
End result, we ate pizza rolls and played video games until bedtime.
So, next day we drop it off, I complain of a demonic possession in my radiator (a look in the daylight tells me that coolant didn't stick around very long). Martel and I head off for a day of Tabiness, Lauren-fun and beer that tastes like raspberries, and other goodness. However, at five my goodness was deflated by a phone call from Brian at the auto shop.
"Megan?"
"This is she."
"This is Brian at the shop. We've got the news on your car. You ready?"
"Give it to me, doc."
This poor guy. He had to tell me that it was not, in fact, a kitten in my radiator, but that the BOILING sound I'd heard coming from under my hood was a result of my water pump going kablooey and my head gasket following. I gulped and asked him what the damage was. He tells me roundabouts $1050. I cry a little, the give in to bitter laughter.
"Well, can you give 'er an oil change while you're down there cowboy? Hell, what're credit cards for?!"
"Of course, Megan, I'll take care of it."
I felt like I'd just been informed that the chemo didn't take or something. I hung up and let loose a howl of the damned. I imagine the pretty little checks I was going to give Stacey, 4 to 6 of them, each with my share of rent for a month, so I could take it easy until the semester calms down. In my head, three of them burst into flames. Figures.
It sure as fuck dampened my mood for the evening. Nonetheless, Martel and I did a'ight w/some good food and such.
This morning I REALLY didn't want to get out of bed. That's usually a sign that I shouldn't. However, I sure as shit can't afford to miss work now, so I went through with it. Now I'm just waiting for the axe to fall, as it inevitably will. Yes kidds, it can, and WILL get worse. The only question now is how.
