Hubby and I have been having a bit of car trouble lately. Perhaps this is because cars have ears and they heard Hubs and I discussing the possibility of trading them both in for a nice Corolla or Camry once he leaves in October. My reasoning behind the trade-in is another post entirely.
Anyway, Husband drives a 97 Honda Accord that was once mine. It certainly doesn’t owe us anything. It’s got over 100,000 miles on it and has never once had a transmission problem. I drive an 05 Scion xB (yes, the goofy box car). Recently, hubby’s car has had some minor issues that has made it un-drivable until we could get the repairs done, so he’s been taking my car to work, what with my being unemployed again and all.
So what does he do on the first day he drives it? He busts the tire, that’s what. He decided that driving around on a donut wouldn’t be so bad for a couple of days, so that’s what he was doing. Last Friday, I was finally able to get it into the shop for the tire-change, and some regular maintenance as well.
They actually finished the car on Friday in spite of the fact that we didn’t have a scheduled appointment, and Husband and I figured that his car was drivable enough to go pick mine up.
We were wrong.
Fortunately, we had already picked my car up by the time his decided it didn’t want to work anymore (they’re conspiring against us I tell you!) and the shop where we left his car was barely a mile away, so he made the rest of the drive just fine.
Saturday, they started the repairs on his car and they lasted into this afternoon. I went to pick the car up, and it was just as good as new. Finally! We have two vehicles again!
I tell you all of that to tell you this:
With summer just around the corner, I am of course, freaking out with the rest of America and trying to get my sorry rear into shape. (more like my sorry stomach, but you get the point) Last Wednesday was my first day back to my Cardio Kickboxing class in some time. I really enjoyed myself in spite of the fact that I could barely walk afterwards. The instructor just had a baby in January and has taken it upon herself to make the rest of us kill ourselves in this class right along with her.
So I was really excited – read: dreading – to start my week off with some really good exercise.
It should come as no surprise then that when I went down to the car to go to the class, that it chose that particular time not to start.
It’s like, dead or something.
Oh, the radio works just fine, and the air is doing great. Just the engine isn’t working. It doesn’t even make that little whirring sound like it even wants to try. Nothing.
So I walked my butt right back upstairs to the apartment and ate a Reese’s Easter Egg. I figure if I’m not working out, I may as well enjoy it. Right?