I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t perseverating on it all the time, buying a car. I am. I really am. I’m ceaselessly looking up used cars and reviews and a whole lot of other stuff I am deeply immersed in temporarily. I’m making a male friend come with me each time, to get better prices. I’ve only been to one lot so far, but it was pretty damn tough to get them to look at me. I also know that all of this is information I do not want in my head for any longer than it need be there. I also miss my dad a lot. He’d keep me on the straight and narrow. It does actually make it harder, the time I spend missing him. I don’t want to get pissed off about something so fruitless.
If you have a weird job life, it is hard to get a loan.
I get it. I mean, be careful who you loan money to! I can tell everyone left front and center that my mortgage is MORE THAN PAID by child support and alimony, and they still won’t give me a loan. Which means, my friends, and i’m not even sure that this is a complaint yet, that I am looking at cars below ten thousand dollars, (well, up to 15) and figuring out how to make it work with resources cobbled.
And truly, when i say i’m not sure this is a complaint, I think about continuing on with minimal to no car payments. no further debt. no anchor pulling me down into forever and ever trapped below. And, the last car I bought was when married, relying on someone else’s income, sized to fit three growers and all their buggies, and now i can get something that is more suited to ME. . . and now I will be relying on my very amazing own.
and I can, and that is that.
Yes, there will be car repairs. surely. But it won’t feel that bad to not have another bill right now.
I don’t like how I am around money. Buying a car has brought much crap to the surface, globs of it burbling around. I don’t trust how I want to draw attention to myself in the struggle. It occurred to me that I should add my venmo somewhere in here and leave it there. There is something in it, a lurking gollum, like a gambler who says its just for kicks, but has that look in their eye. I’m not sure I trust myself not to make it seem like a bigger deal, just to pull on a heartstring. This is abhorrent. There is a lot in here. I am suspiciously comfortable with the ‘its okay to help me’ routine. I mean, it is okay, but not like this, this feels salesman-y, and I can see what that is like, and how it feels, and it can’t be me. *And it makes everything easier if there is someone to blame, so let’s drag out the old lameass ex to run him through the mud a couple times too. Shall we? Sigh. There is still work to be done.
If it occurs to you to give me money, please make a donation to something women-centered in your local area. There are women in much greater need than I am. I’m going to buy a car. I will not be without.
So there. Wish me strength in navigation and a strong brush with good luck.
All jokes aside, I kind of wish this car were an option.