I’m not going to bother with why I haven’t posted in a skillion years. Let’s just get to today’s post.
I hate cars. I’ve owned two cars in my life. The first, my beloved Corrolla Ziggy, lost all suspension last summer. Her replacement is a ’96 Volvo 850 sedan. And I’m so disappointed in it. This was supposed to be my Swedish supercar! What do I have? Well, for starters it only runs on four cylinders now. I didn’t even know that was possible. It is. When I stop at a light or a stop sign, I get the ever-loving juice jiggled out of me while the CHECK ENGINE light flashes maniacally.
I don’t believe in buying new cars. I hate that wooshing sound they make as you drive them off the lot and the value falls into the pits of hell. RIght now, I can’t even entertain the idea of buying a new car. But I have found myself gazing skyward of late, cursing the gods for my lack of car-prosperity or the fact that my town has a terrible public transit system.
Next post is about writing.