My first ever Writing.com journal. |
poor car. i keep forgetting that i need to call jiffy lube, as this new transmission pan is not going to order nor install nor pay for itself. and meanwhile, through all these days of my not calling, stefan has sat forlorn in the parking deck, dripping bright red transmission fluid all over the concrete. i can't stop thinking--it feels like an act of providence, that he got me and marcus to and from texas safely, before all this started. before the speed bumps put a hole in the pan and started him whirring (wheezing) on every difficult hill. which makes me think he doesn't like this, this dying while i still care about him, as poorly as i've cared for him. he has long deserved a fluid check and a wash, but dad said, over and over, don't put any more money into that car, we'll get you a new one for your birthday. another altima if you want. (to tell him i don't care what kind it is would be ungracious.) so jiffy lube only happened at the last possible second, after he was already leaking red everywhere and not being able to climb to the second floor of the student parking garage, poor baby. he took me to texas and he deserves better. meanwhile, he's bleeding all over the floor out there, and it's my fault, and i know he's just a car but damn it, his name is stefan. |