Ok. I am not a girly girl by anyone’s standards. I go on field trips with my daughter and I catch snakes and frogs to show her class mates. I love power tools. Nothing makes me happier that building something myself. Especially when the directions say that you need at least three people to accomplish it. But this thing totally throws me:
I am at a complete loss when it comes to this car. I know how to change a flat, how to change my oil, I can even replace spark plug wires and belts. But anything happens to my car and I just stand there looking totally helpless.
I have a serious love hate relationship with this thing. Today is hate. Lots and lots of hate. I told the mechanic to light it on fire. He thought I was kidding. I’m not sure I was.
Today the spring on my strut broke. Simple fix really. But God help me, with all the technology my car has, it didn’t warn me, just made a loud noise and ate my tire.
And the thought of it makes me want to cry. And I don’t get it. You could come to me with your bone sticking out of your arm and it wouldn’t phase me. I would be totally calm and functional until the ambulance got there. But my car breaks down and I am done for. I just don’t get it.