Tuesday, July 20, 2010

I am not Cinderella.

I do not cheerfully begin the day before dawn bright and early, chipper and ready for my daily chores.

I am not programmed that way.

Of course, I might have been more chipper this morning except for our cat woke us up at 2:15 AM (I know this, because I checked my phone a moment later) vomiting. Oh, let me tell you, that is a pleasant sound to wake up to.

Except, y'know, not.

Once that was taken care of, we tried to settle back down to sleep. Jason fell back asleep a half-hour or so later... It was sometime in the recesses of night between 3:30 (the last time I checked the clock) and 4 AM before I fell back asleep.

And the cat went right back to being snuggly and happy once she was done. Oh, cat. You are so lucky I love you.

So anyway. Today was the day to drive up to Litchfield to allow Jason's car to move gracefully out of our hands and into someone else's.

This is what the sky looks like at 8 A.M.

Aw, isn't it just lovely.

This is what I look like at 8 A.M.:

I really think this may be my favorite picture of myself ever. That squint I'm doin' there? I do that basically all morning from sheer tired-induced annoyance. It doesn't stop until I get coffee or it's 2 P.M., whichever happens first.

We hit up McDonald's for sausage burritos and coffee and we were on our way!

When we reached Litchfield, we found the auto repair place easily enough. The nice lady that works there asked if she could have Jason's license plate and was a bit saddened when we said no, we kind of need it. Apparently she collects license plates, and when she gets all 50 states, she gets to retire. She had 25 and 1 from Mexico.

There were chickens in the yard. Chickens. There was a big ol' rooster all proud of himself and a littler one with that mean look they have and hens and there was poultry everywhere you turned! They had guinea hens there. Guinea hens. This was exciting.

So, they took the car off our hands for essentially a discount off of the repair work they had tried to do and the towing and holding the car for almost two weeks, and they were quite kind about it. We went to pack up the stuff we wanted from the car and leave it behind forever.

I would like to say a few words.

Oh Mustang, we shall miss you.

Your engine just kept running, even if the transmission exploded. You were a good and a faithful car just like Jason wanted, obligingly doing everything in your power to start even when the alternator was out, or you know, that whole exploding transmission thing.

You wanted to start. You wanted to be a good car, and that is all that matters.

You had a way of running with a deep, almost growling rumble that made you sound like an angry car everywhere you went.

For all that I could not, would not drive you- your lack of power steering fluid was just too much for my weak and wimpy arms- you were the first car Jason drove me around in, the first car I associated with him. Only the second car at SIUC I could recognize from my 14th floor dorm room when I was watching for Jason to come home.

Your deep grumble, many a night, was my sign to open the door to greet Jason when he got home from work.

You worked hard for a lot of years.

And so, despite my protestations of not really liking riding in or driving you, I am going to miss you. So is Jason.

The place where your license plate should be is so sad, like a child without a name.

My car sat next to yours for nearly two years and looks a little lonely without your silver by its side.

Pulling away from the auto yard and leaving you behind was a little hard, I'm not ashamed to admit it. A lifetime of children's movies has given me a paranoid fear that inanimate objects can feel abandonment and loneliness.

Yes, I realize that's crazy.

But you have all your new car friends! And your engine will go in a big truck. So there you go!

See? I think the blue one next to you has already fallen in love.

Good-bye, Mustang.


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