Car coma
I had a great couple days. Saw Arsenic with the lovely ladies, Gelly and Amanda, and met up with Sarah and Nick there. Had an impromptu party at Amanda's with her, Nick, Sally, and Jose Cuervo, which was a blasty blast. Saw the fam the next morning, which was nice, then had a hilarious night at work with Will, Damon, and Joey. Sure I was tired and going crazy, but at least it was FUN. "FRANKENTHUMB, RAWR!"
But then, near 1 a.m. last night driving home after work, Cohen, who's been making gurgling noises and warning me for about a week now, started hiccuping. I went to Jiffy Lube recently and got a bunch of shit fixed, but they didn't couldn't fix whatever was wrong. My dad thought maybe it was just aftershocks of my oil being so low and it would fix itself after the guys worked on it. But last night we were all proven wrong. Cohen hiccuped, then started shaking. A little ways into Centreville, the shaking got pretty bad, and he started making grinding noises. Then, as I slowed down at a red light, trying my best not to stop because I figured that'd mean doom, all of my warning lights came on at once, he let out one final angry noise, then died. At an intersection. At 1 a.m. Thankfully, Seth came and saved me, pushing my car into a nearby parking lot. It didn't take too much time, all things considered. And I actually wasn't too upset. Frustrated and angry, but I wasn't crying or freaking out or anything. I texted Gells and Joey while I waited, we got it out of the road, and that was that.
I woke up this morning with a raging headache. Two nights of partying and car problems have caught up, I guess. Suddenly it all hit me at once: what the fuck am I going to do? I mean, Steph agreed last night to drive me to work, and Joey said he'd drive me home after work, but THEN what?? I couldn't very well do that everyday. Soon, my parents (James in tow) and aunt show up. "Pack your bags!" So I'm coming home so I can use the maxima to get to work and shit. Yeah, it's kind of a rushed job, coming home today. I planned on coming home in the next week for Christmas, and plus Seth's parents are coming here to stay for a week or so on the 23rd, so I was gonna be out by then anyway. So it's not the coming home that's got me in such a fucking depressed and angry mood (though how rushed it is certainly isn't helping my headache). COHEN MIGHT BE DEAD. My parents keep saying that if the guys at Joe's can't do anything, and Cohen really is shot, they'll pass the maxima off to me and fix the villager for themselves. So that's cool and all, at least I won't be carless, but ohmygodCOHEN. I'm actually starting to cry right now. I love that fucking car. Sure, he's tempermental and old and be kind of a bitch sometimes, but I LOVE him. Best fucking first car ever. And I know eventally I'll get a new car, but I was hoping that would be more by choice. This is just fucked up. It's like having a goddamned loved one taken from you suddenly. I know I'm being ridiculous and melodramatic - it's just a car - but it's not just a car, it's MY car and I really like him. I don't want to go from driving my original little sports car to some old person loser cruiser. And asthetics and fun aside, I'm attached to the thing. He and I have been through some great and rough times. Driving around with friends, flat tires, driving home in the wee hours of the morning while I'm hungover, cruising around blasting music when I'm happy and want to celebrate, or doing the same when I'm sad and need a good cry in the confines of my own vehicle. I mean, the way I'm feeling now, I would go driving. But oh fuck, I CAN'T. At least not with Cohen. It might be unhealthy to get so attached, but I really love that car.
Right now it's just a waiting game. My baby's in a coma. Let's hope I don't have to pull the plug.
This Christmas season has been kind of shit. Not all bad, it's had some pretty great moments, but it's had some royally SHITTY ones. What the hell.
I'm done packing, guess I should get going.
But then, near 1 a.m. last night driving home after work, Cohen, who's been making gurgling noises and warning me for about a week now, started hiccuping. I went to Jiffy Lube recently and got a bunch of shit fixed, but they didn't couldn't fix whatever was wrong. My dad thought maybe it was just aftershocks of my oil being so low and it would fix itself after the guys worked on it. But last night we were all proven wrong. Cohen hiccuped, then started shaking. A little ways into Centreville, the shaking got pretty bad, and he started making grinding noises. Then, as I slowed down at a red light, trying my best not to stop because I figured that'd mean doom, all of my warning lights came on at once, he let out one final angry noise, then died. At an intersection. At 1 a.m. Thankfully, Seth came and saved me, pushing my car into a nearby parking lot. It didn't take too much time, all things considered. And I actually wasn't too upset. Frustrated and angry, but I wasn't crying or freaking out or anything. I texted Gells and Joey while I waited, we got it out of the road, and that was that.
I woke up this morning with a raging headache. Two nights of partying and car problems have caught up, I guess. Suddenly it all hit me at once: what the fuck am I going to do? I mean, Steph agreed last night to drive me to work, and Joey said he'd drive me home after work, but THEN what?? I couldn't very well do that everyday. Soon, my parents (James in tow) and aunt show up. "Pack your bags!" So I'm coming home so I can use the maxima to get to work and shit. Yeah, it's kind of a rushed job, coming home today. I planned on coming home in the next week for Christmas, and plus Seth's parents are coming here to stay for a week or so on the 23rd, so I was gonna be out by then anyway. So it's not the coming home that's got me in such a fucking depressed and angry mood (though how rushed it is certainly isn't helping my headache). COHEN MIGHT BE DEAD. My parents keep saying that if the guys at Joe's can't do anything, and Cohen really is shot, they'll pass the maxima off to me and fix the villager for themselves. So that's cool and all, at least I won't be carless, but ohmygodCOHEN. I'm actually starting to cry right now. I love that fucking car. Sure, he's tempermental and old and be kind of a bitch sometimes, but I LOVE him. Best fucking first car ever. And I know eventally I'll get a new car, but I was hoping that would be more by choice. This is just fucked up. It's like having a goddamned loved one taken from you suddenly. I know I'm being ridiculous and melodramatic - it's just a car - but it's not just a car, it's MY car and I really like him. I don't want to go from driving my original little sports car to some old person loser cruiser. And asthetics and fun aside, I'm attached to the thing. He and I have been through some great and rough times. Driving around with friends, flat tires, driving home in the wee hours of the morning while I'm hungover, cruising around blasting music when I'm happy and want to celebrate, or doing the same when I'm sad and need a good cry in the confines of my own vehicle. I mean, the way I'm feeling now, I would go driving. But oh fuck, I CAN'T. At least not with Cohen. It might be unhealthy to get so attached, but I really love that car.
Right now it's just a waiting game. My baby's in a coma. Let's hope I don't have to pull the plug.
This Christmas season has been kind of shit. Not all bad, it's had some pretty great moments, but it's had some royally SHITTY ones. What the hell.
I'm done packing, guess I should get going.