It seems… odd to post about such a mundane topic after the last 48+ hours. Tuesday night I went through physical shock that culminated in the worst fibroymyalgia flare up I’ve had since I was first diagnosed, leaving me unable to walk for a few hours yesterday morning.
But the world won’t stop turning, and we had a much more immediate problem to deal with than contemplating our dark dystopian future under Cheeto Jesus.
My husband’s 18 year old Toyota Corolla had finally reached “driven into the ground” status, with major mechanical failures that made it impossible to drive that would cost more than the value of the car even if it was fully functional.
We talked about our options — and quickly dismissed the repair. The car had other problems, mostly symptoms of age, that factored into it. Option 1 was my husband getting his dream car, a brand new Prius, and me continuing to drive my old Honda Accord (which was in much better condition for its age than the Corolla was.) Option 2 was me getting my dream car, a little Mazda Miata MX-5.
We decided that me getting the used Miata was a better economic decision than him getting his Prius just yet, so we went halvsies on the down payment of a used 2010 Miata that a local BMW dealership was selling. This is counting as a birthday present to myself, as I’ll be turning 37 this year, and I never had a choice in what vehicle I got before in my life, always driving something my parent’s gave me, or in the Honda’s case, my sister-in-law’s handmedown car.
The story on that particular car is interesting — it was a preacher’s “Sunday” car, and it spent most of its life pampered and garaged. It’s in immaculate condition and only had 34K miles on it, which is why they were asking for 15K for a nearly 7 year old car.
This was my first time doing dealer financing and the whole shebang. I’ve got impeccable credit, and I was able to keep the car entirely in my name without needing my husband’s income as a co-sign, a testament to our prosperity in recent years. (Thanks, Obama!) Everything is signed and ready to go — I pick it up tomorrow, as it’s getting a wash and detail today to make sure it’s spotless.
Last night, when the insomnia threatened to hit me and the stress cause another flare up, I forced myself to think about my new car instead. The beautiful red exterior, how fun it was to test drive, how I want to take it up into the mountains, how I’ll be goaded into racing others down the highway.
The insomnia continued, however, so I came here to post this diary. I took some benedryl and I’m going to try to get another hour of sleep now.
I may be living in a nightmare, but at least I’ll be driving my dream car.