Pass the Tissues: In Which I Feel Sorry for Myself and Have a Weep

Note: In this post, I am going to gripe a bit. A lot. If you don't want to read about a grown woman crying about cars and money, this isn't the post to read. Go read the post about my first attempt at the 30 Day Shred. It's actually funny. This post isn't. Unless you like laughing at me when I cry. Then I guess it is...

If you don't want to read about me crying, you can read this friendly summary about my car hunt!

Laura's Car Hunt

Today I test-drove a pretty car that worked. It was nice. It was too nice. It was Expensive.

I am too po for that car. I am so po, I cannot afford the last two letters of "poor." I cannot buy Pretty Car, which was a Ford Fusion. So, I am asking Car Guy to look for an older car that is less equipped than Pretty Car, but still the same make and model. I am hoping for the best.

And if you keep reading, you'll see what hoping for the best looks like, inside my fatalistic brain:

Hoping for the Best Looks Like This

I went car shopping this afternoon, which, naturally, led to tears.

The car I would like to get drives without the sound of a chainsaw coming from under the hood. It has no chunks missing from anywhere, no burn marks or odor of cigarette smoke, no mysterious stains, no rattles, no massive dents, and it has never been in a frame-bending accident. It is a Ford Fusion, and it is lovely.

The cars I can afford look like this.

It's hard to love your job, pay your bills, live economically, and still have nothing to show for it. And it's hard to not be able to save up for replacing your car because you spent all your money paying for said car and for the education that was supposed to get you a fantastic job doing something you loved, because any college degree will get you that, right?

It's hard to know that I would likely make more working a job that didn't require a college degree, and then maybe I could get a nice car. But I am overqualified for those jobs. Because college degree.

And I hate having spells of feeling sorry for myself for not having things I don't have, because I already have so much that other people don't. But this week, I'm giving myself permission to cry randomly about not being able to afford a car that doesn't backfire and has good gas mileage, because I was in a car accident this week. It was traumatic.

Next week I will start hunting for a car I can afford, and I will drive said car around until the engine explodes and then I will replace it with the same quality of car, because unless someone very wealthy decides to leave me their money when they die, or I marry the Duke of Something, that is what I will be able to afford. And I will look at the high school students leaving their school parking lot, which I pass on my way to work, and I will see that each and every one of those students are driving a better car than I am. And I will turn up the radio and keep driving, because my car decided to start that morning.

But this week, I am letting myself feel depressed, because I had a car I liked, even if it wasn't fancy. And I didn't have to dump $400 into it every other month because the engine was having problems, I just got to drive it. I doubt I'll get that lucky again.

I am fortunate I can borrow a car from my father this week and my mother for ages after that, because if not, I would really have to settle for something wretched. Even if my dad's car has an unpleasant smell and my mums is moldy because the trunk leaks when it rains, I have a car to drive to work, and that is LUCKY. So I am going to keep repeating that to myself again and again while I go about my routine. And I promise next week I'll go back to being my usual self. Promise.