Here are the facts:
Though I have a roof over my head until mid/late September thanks to my house-sitting gig, I don’t have a place to call home.
I was meant to be cat-sitting but the 20 year old cat got very sick with a chest infection. Last month, with the owners completely on board, I had to take the cat to the vet to be put to sleep.
Now my car is sick and won’t pass it’s smog check. To keep it short and simple, it’s burning oil from an unidentifiable place in the heart of the engine and the smoke blows out the tail pipe. It needs a new engine. And a new engine, on my older car that has a ton of miles, makes no sense.
The ‘doctors’ have determined, because I can’t afford the surgery, the only option is to sell the car as-is or put the car to sleep.
A friend reminded me of the state’s generous reimbursement if you “retire” the smog-inducing vehicle, to be demolished and turned to scraps. My poor Saturn 😦 but far better than the leg work of selling as-is and getting pennies to hand over my friend.
So now, not only am I home-less … come Tuesday 8/8, I’m car-less as well.
That brutal news is only just sinking in.
My perplexed mind, trying to verify this new truth, can’t help but spew out, “Really!???” followed by a questioning laugh.
“Really, now my car?”
My life has become comical. The lemons just keep coming. Now my car is a lemon. All I can do is laugh.
“First the comfortable place(s) I’ve called home … now my car?
Last night, as I made dinner, I walked around, feeling perplexed, saying, “Really, Universe? Really?!” chuckling every time the thought of my car came pouncing in again.
First the comfort of “home” and now my only remaining reliable comfort – my car. When more thoughts of my sick car came to mind last night as I laid in the dark, in a relatively foreign room, in a house that I’m temporarily borrowing space in, I again chuckled out loud.
This is a very unusual reaction for me. I don’t typically go around chuckling to myself. But for whatever reason, this is the authentic feeling that’s coming out of me consistently since I learned the news.
While walking to teach today, I was thinking of this intense predicament: car-less, home-less. Unbelievable, comical. I couldn’t hold back the tiny giggles. My thoughts pieced together this funny metaphorical perspective about this particular aspect of my recent onslaught of lemons:
After a beautiful 8 year relationship, unbeknownst to me, my car has been smoking behind my back. And at 7pm last night, it was diagnosed with internal bleeding.
My car needs a transplant, but due to it’s age, it may never fully recover if it had one and I can’t afford the surgery. So the decision has been made. It’s on it’s death bed and needs to be put down to its final resting place.
Oddly enough, the State’s requirement is that this cherished companion needs to be driven in alive in order to be crushed to smithereens. Interesting.
Last month a cat, this month, my car.
The upcoming death of my beloved companion has really shaken me up. I don’t have a place to call home and now after 8 years, I say good-bye to the closest thing I’ve had to a ‘place of sanctuary’ that brings me comfort and a sense of stability. This vehicle, my trusted means of transportation, despite it’s temperamental blinker and the frantic knocking that says hello until I hit 10 miles per hour, is the only thing I own that won’t fit into my storage unit with the rest of my life’s belongings.
As shocking and jolting as this is, I can’t withhold this bewildered chuckling.