I've been running through this week knowing the activity started today and somehow managed to convince myself I was a day ahead. I'm not going to enjoy tomorrow much, since my subconscious expects a Saturday and we got some fresh orders to finish out the week.
Cleaned the basement. I found unspeakable horrors.
I guess I'm hanging out with Emily today, but as my car is in the shop I don't see me doing a lot of driving. I'm stuck with the F-150. I hate the F-150. This is gonna be the last repair on the Jetta whether it needs more or not. This car is financially ruining me and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if I counted up the receipts and have paid more in repairs, oil, and tires than I did buying the car. In two months I'll have another vehicle anyway. I won't be able to take the bike out in the snow, but the car never has issues then. It's generally very cold-friendly. I love the Volkswagen, I really do. It's a joy to drive and it's arguably the prettiest thing I've ever owned. I've just finally reached the point where the sheer unreliability is unacceptable. I would prefer a car that's comfortable and ritzy and fun to drive, but if I have to take this thing out back and shoot it in favor of an old Toyota, I'll do it. Japanese subcompacts from the nineties are about as reliable as you get, and the fact that this car is making me miss the reliability of my old Sentra is downright deplorable. I am fucking tired of being stressed-out because I drive a lemon. I'm gonna need that car this weekend for a good, solid five hundred miles. If it doesn't function, you can reasonably expect me to be outright pissed for the next two months, when I have something else to drive.
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