Have a day!

Back in college, we all used to tell each other, “Have a day!” before going off to classes and work-study jobs and other adventures. It quickly morphed into, “Have a shitty day,” because that’s usually what happened.

But the original sentiment is ingenious. Have a day. That, you will achieve. No failure there. See — that really DOES start you off on a positive note!

I debated whether to announce to old friends/Facebook/loyal readers that I’m back. But I almost feel like I’d be doing everyone a disservice. I mean, I didn’t blog during the happiest few months of my life — and I pick NOW to come back? Lord. Don’t I at least owe you people some joy and sage words about life, work and love?

(Stop laughing!)

So the big thing happening right now is car-shopping. Something not done since the days post-9/11 when I decided that relying on public transportation (which had shut down while I was at work in a terrible part of town) was no longer an option. I went to the nearest dealer, pointed and took home my car.

And here I am over a decade later (and older), doing it again.

I found my car. I LOVE THIS FUCKING CAR. So it doesn’t have a sunroof. The guy said he’d kick one in for free. I said knock the price down by the $1,500 that it would cost and we’ll talk.

No dice. It’s impossible to get a good deal on a used car in this economy … even one as tricked-out and shiny and colorful as this one. Le sigh. Everybody wants a used car. It’s a seller’s market, even though consumer confidence is crap as far as I can tell.

They are however trying to get me into a 2013. That I like less. Way less. Oh and it costs five grand more. Of course. They said they didn’t want to take a loss on the car. Um, I was the only person in the dealership for the FIVE HOURS they kept me there. Lose three grand off the sticker or let me walk away from a $20K car. Hmmm. OK.

I’ve just dumped so much money into my little Samantha Jones (clearly you can tell what I was watching on TV when I bought it), especially recently, that I cannot bear to take care of the pending repair bill. I could have put a down payment on a friggin’ house, after what I spent this past fiscal quarter. So do I do the next set of repairs and pray that THIS TIME IT’S FINALLY IT, since I truly have now replaced EVERYTHING on her … or do I say fuck it and GIMME MAH DREAM CAR, YO?

I’ve spent too much time un- or under-employed to trust that life will be happily hunky-dory from now into the hereafter. I try really hard. I work a lot. I mean well. But my industry has been a disaster. I think my company is the only one that’s actually going to make it. But I see what other companies (including several ex-employers) are doing to “make it,” and it ain’t pretty.

I thank God every day for the good job and the resources to do it and the paycheck that lets me live on the ocean. And I know God wants us to stretch our faith. I think He does want me to have my cute little car, too.

I’ve prayed on it and talked to Him about it. (I could swear I heard Him tell me to fund a Roth IRA with the downpayment amount instead, but that could have been a hallucination. I have enough psychic flashes to qualify me as crazy and that might have been one of them.)

Anyway, for logical purposes, I need the car. Rather, “A” car. I’ve been running the wheels off of Mom’s, which has been nice since I pay the insurance on it and I’m finally getting my money’s worth. But I want a car that, when I take her on the Miami Expressway, she actually ACCELERATES and doesn’t get me damn near killed.

And my new little would-be car accelerates by mind control, yo. Practically, anyway.

Some girls go to the mall when they’re depressed — I go to the auto mall!

Alas, I think common sense will win out. It always does. Eventually.

The rent’s a bitch and the home sitch is status quo. I’m also afraid that I’d be buying the car because I have control over NOT A DAMN THING ELSE and this would be my way of telling the world, well, a girl’s gotta get her way once in a while.

Just once, I want to know I can do something without it biting me in my ample butt. What to do, what to do …

So anyway, yeah. Had a day. Had a few days. Had a couple of weeks. And I’m wondering whether having this cute little new car would make the smiles come a little more easily again, like they did back when the world looked a little rosier through my eyes.

Comments closed.