Where do I even start? I guess I’ll start by saying that I’m very happy that June is almost over, since it has become one of the worst months I’ve had in recent – and distant – memory. Excuse the lack of pretty pictures. I have plenty of stuff I want to get back to, but I’m not “there” tonight.
As you may remember, two weeks ago, I found out my full-time job was going bye-bye come Sept. 1. On that same phone call, I arranged to take the first five of my 17 days of vacation during the week that ended today.
So last Friday, I shut down my work laptop and figured I’d enjoy a good solid nine days away from ye olde full-time job. A little time at the lake, an afternoon sewing at the quilting store … what could be bad about that?
Last Saturday, we had
Ysolda Teague at the store. It was much fun, but was quite literally a 12-hour day at work. I was completely shot when I got home around 10:30 pm. I hope to post more about that day a little later on.
Sunday morning, I woke up and got my act together to leave for a few days at the Lake. I finally got on the road around 1:30 pm. One of the last things I did before I left the house was to apply my “6-10” (June, 2010) registration sticker to my license plate. The plan was to stay at Van Buren until Thursday morning, then head homeward in time to work at Bloomin.
So I start driving. It’s my first trip up for the year, but I’ve made this drive a million times. I’m listening to
“Wait Wait … Don’t Tell Me” on my iPod. The world was good.
Two hours later, I’m still headed northbound on I-79 and am just south of Erie, Pa., when my cruise control clicks off. No big deal … until I hit the gas to get back up to speed and nothing happens. I hit the hazard lights and coast at 35-40 mph for two miles to the next exit. When I brake at the bottom of the exit ramp, I truly have no car left, so I coast at the speed of frozen molasses to a stop on the side of the road. No cell signal, so I climb a nearby hill to call AAA, the Hubster and my parents (at the Lake).
Tow truck takes me to a dealership in Erie, where my parentals meet me. I get to hug my dad for Father’s Day and then he starts driving back to Pittsburgh. Mom and I grabbed some dinner, then headed back to the cottage.
My timing belt had stripped at 70 mph. Pistons and cylinders collided, also known as “catastrophic engine failure.” The car has been donated to the Butler County Humane Society.
Which leaves me car-less and job-less. Hubster was budgeted for the next new vehicle, but now we’re crossing our fingers that his Corolla with 117,000 miles holds on for a few more years.
Earlier today, I test-drove a few cars and picked what I think is going to be a winner.
[Side Note: Knitting Friends have been invaluable through the Car Debacle of 2009. Knitting Friend #1 has a mechanic husband who was very helpful through the “fix it or trash it” debate. Knitting Friend #2 has a husband who has business relationships with a number of dealerships in the Pittsburgh area and has really been a huge help with the purchasing process. Don’t want to think about how much more icky this whole thing might have been without their guidance.]
I though I had weathered the storm. We’re on track to drive home a new vehicle tomorrow after a half-day of work at Bloomin. I went to knit night at Borders tonight and stayed longer than I had planned with
LaurieG and
CelticQueen. Much fun!
And then I came home. And checked my least-used email address. And found out that I’ve been let go from the first job I picked up when I moved to Pittsburgh. The one closest to my heart.
I don’t know when I became radioactive, but I’m ready for it to stop. Seriously. Stop.
Is it July yet? I know there are only four days left in June, but I’m starting to think I’m not going to make it.
