You know how I hate Mondays right? Well, I loathe Tuesdays with every ounce of my being because anything bad that could happen will happen on a Tuesday. Murphy’s Law is the guiding principle on a (tues)day in the life of Deza. That’s why I try to move through the day pretending it’s either Monday or Wednesday; if I don’t think Tuesday thoughts, I might make it out unscathed. This Tuesday I was not so successful.
At FedEx this morning I managed to take a 30 pound box to the head, with the corner of said box missing my right eye by a matter of inches. I may develop a shiner yet, but if I do it’ll be so pitiful that people will think it’s a makeup malfunction. Even if I managed to get a black eye everyone who knows me would assume there was a mildly amusing story behind it since Deza isn't the sort of person that gets into fist fights or bar brawls. The most impressive bruise I’ve had to date was a rather detailed rendition of a tire tread on my thigh, which was refreshing since I actually knew what would have caused that particular contusion when typically I have no clue how the injury occurred. Normally I put it down to the fact that I’m hilariously uncoordinated and have the unique ability to trip on a line drawn with chalk on the ground.
I made it to the gym as planned and successfully completed day 1/week 2 of the Couch to 5k program. I felt ok after the workout, maybe a little rushed because I got started later than I wanted. I’m going to continue the program as planned and hope that working my butt off will take my mind off of the shitstorm that is my life. Lord knows I need an outlet for my frustration but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
After dropping Ashley off at Preschool I got stuck in traffic on a back road I took to avoid the major delays on the freeway. I was keeping an eye on my gauges because I was running on less than a quarter tank of gas when suddenly my engine went pppppsssssshhhhhhhhh VOOM and a plume of white smoke began coming out of the engine compartment. I turned off the engine although I noticed it wasn’t running anymore, put on my hazards, and popped the hood to discover that there was coolant everywhere.
A patrol car was coming up the opposite side of the street when he did a louie, and ranged his squad car behind my now disabled Jetta. He walked up asking if I was having car trouble. I held back the snarky comment that tried to leap out of my mouth, you know since I was standing there with the hood open peering at my engine, and I told him my suspicion of a blown coolant hose. I needed a tow and to get my car off the main road and onto a side street where I could wait while he called for a tow truck. Since I was on a hill he said we were going to put my car in neutral and coast downhill to the side street. I got back in my car; put it in neutral, and nothing happened. I put it in park and then into neutral again and suddenly, nothing continued to happen. The officer came back and asked me if I knew what neutral was and did my car (in fact) have a neutral gear. Again I used my remarkable restraint to refrain from mentioning that having boobs does not mean I don’t know anything about cars. After discerning that I did in fact know how to drive a vehicle he said that I must be stuck in a snow divot, so he was going to give me a push. The squad car inched forward until the bumpers were touching at which point he gave me a nudge.
I rolled down the hill and maneuvered my car skillfully onto the side street without the benefit of power steering or breaks, which I believe qualifies me for some sort of reward. When I was safely out of the way, the officer called the tow company and said that someone would be out ASAP. I called my mom at that point because I would need a ride to work, which reminded me to call in for the second time that morning to give my updated status. I then called Progressive and confirmed I had roadside assistance coverage which, thankfully, includes no limit on towing fee reimbursement. When the tow truck arrived I was informed that they do not have an account with the garage I wanted my car taken to and so I would need to pay up front. This is about the time I discovered that my wallet, with my driver’s license and bank cards, was not in my purse. Luckily my mom was able to loan me $161 to have my car towed. After I watched my car get hoisted onto the truck and carried away much like an ill-behaved child, I called the garage. The head mechanic is my brother’s best friend since high school and his mother is my daughter’s pediatrician, so I know I can trust him to give it to me straight.
I just got a call back from Ryan the mechanic and he said that the coolant leak came from a smallish plastic ‘T’ that was supposed to be holding hoses together. The bad news is when the piece broke; the scalding and pressurized coolant destroyed the spark plugs and got other parts of the engine wet that were not supposed to get wet. The bare minimum to get the car running again is to replace the broken piece, add coolant, replace the spark plugs, and do a comprehensive tune up. This will cost me $424 and a few bitter, bitter tears.
I finally had the waiver money saved up, and suddenly I’m about $600 short again. This concludes (hopefully) concludes the story on my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
“All of us have bad luck and good luck. The man who persists through the bad luck – who keeps right on going – is the man who is there when the good luck come – and it ready to receive it.”