2004-11-13 - 6:05 p.m.

As prior mentioned, my car is a piece of shit. On Tuesday my oil light started flickering off and on. It worried me so when I got back to the place where I was staying (Mazurs) I figured I would wait until the morning and check to oil. In the morning I tried to get the hood open and Mr. Mazur tried, but it was somehow stuck or frozen so he gave me a ride to work and pulled the car into the garage to thaw, hoping that would work. When I got back and Mrs. Mazur had figured out to get the hood up and put oil in; she said I had been bone dry.

The next day I drove it like normal but I noticed that the “charge” and “brake” lights were on. I figured it was just an electrical problem that didn’t mean anything because my car does all sorts of funny things like buzzing when the left blinker is on and the horn only working when the wheel is turned to the left.

Yesterday the oil light started flickering again. I was scared and confused because oil was just put in it three days before. So last night I get home from work. My neighbor, Wayne, rushes out of his door as I pull in. “Uh, when are you going to get that oil leak fixed,” he asked, “My cousin slipped on if earlier.” I didn’t realize that my oil was leaking that badly.

Bridge wanted to take the car to his girlfriend’s (Jackie) house which is only a minute or two away, so I agreed if he checked the oil and such and thought the car was okay. A while after he left he called me and asked how much highway and night driving I do. I replied--hesitantly, wondering where this was going—“…every day…why?” He told me that the headlights had dimmed down to nothing which made driving really scary, and advised me to avoid the highway and night driving and to drive under 40mph. He called again in a bit and told me that he was at Arby’s in a drive-through, turned the car off because Jackie was taking a long time to order, and the car died. He was there waiting for a jump. “Okay,” I said, “just bring the car home when you get it started, and we’ll worry about getting Jackie home or whatever then.”

An hour or so later I got a frantic call from Jackie. She was crying, and told me that Bridge was in jail and my car was about to be impounded because they were pulled over because the headlights had dimmed again. It turned out that Bridge had a suspended license--which he was unaware of—from an unpaid ticket. They were also apparently smoking pot, so the cops searched my car but didn’t find the two roaches Jackie had in her cigarette box. Listening to Jackie on the phone, I told Chris to get his shoes on and we rushed out the car to go get my car. The guy towing my car wouldn’t listen though and said that there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

So in the morning I wake up get ready and ask Chris to take me to work. For a half-hour we quarreled about him taking me. There ware raised voices and tears: our first fight ever. He said that my car being impounded was a good enough reason to call off; I said that Saturdays were the busiest days, and there were only two reps and me there as opposed to the normal five or so. He said to stay and spend the day with him which tugged at my heartstrings a bit, but I felt that it was my responsibility to be at work if there was any way at all. Not being able to get my boyfriend to take me would sound quite lame to my boss.
I was crying and mad and not knowing what to do. I called Brad and told him the situation and he was nice and just said to get there as soon as I could. Just after that Chris took me into work. We were silent and I chain smoked the whole way there.

Work was eight hours of a constant mob of people. We didn’t get away from our desks for at least six hours. Meanwhile Bridge was calling me saying his mom wanted me to pay half of the impound fee and asking where to tow the car to because when he tried driving it it wouldn’t go more than three hundred feet. I had to call and get a mechanic, and address, ‘cringe at the fact that there are no openings until next week or the next. I didn’t make it to the bank, which means I will not have money until Monday…provided I find rides to school and work. And now I won’t be able to work out.

I’m leaving work now; who knows what I will have to deal with when I get home. I wonder if Baby will be mad at me still… The joys of life…

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