I’ve been an even worse blogger than Peter these days. How does one start? If I listen to the sounds in my head, it all starts (and ends) with Watchmen. This being the song in my head going over and over right now:
So how do I write this story? To all but blatantly rip off Watchmen at this point, start with a sad story, and everything else will follow through. And to NOT rip off Watchmen entirely, we’ll start two months back. An empty pallet (and one of those right ugly heavy ones) fell on my Achilles tendon (to which I think I’ve already documented), and kept me on the shelf for three weeks. So aside from the sheer irony of watching Troy again and again, more irony was to ensue.
Being in a capacity of limited mobility, the car was essential for the commute. Luckily, work offered modified duties so that I would have minimal issues trying to extract money from WCB. Good until day four. After overhauling all the cooling system, my timing chain decided to snap and cause a backfire that seized the engine. This I know in hindsight. However, for the next near five or six weeks, most nights had been spent trying to fix every possible cause of the engine not working. Fuel filter. Fuel pump. Cleaning out the fuel lines. New spark plugs. New wires. And so on, and so on, and, well, you get the point. Loads of work, effort, pain, and money, but no result. Two weeks back I broke down and went to my mechanic.
He was the one who broke the bad news. Fuckity. Another catch 22. Need a car for the commute to get to work, can’t afford the car, so the commute sucks, and physically wears me down from progressing in the direction I need to go professionally and personally. So, I’ve bitten the bullet, re-worked the budget and got a car.
Did originally get a 2009 Kia Rio 5, and drove it for two days. Once the dealership settled the financing, I was approved for $500 per month over six years, not $230 over five. Fuck. Gotta look some more. I ended up with a 2004 Kia Rio DX-V, which in all honesty drives just as nicely. It needs a bit of body work, and the dealer is going to fix some for me. I can live with tidying up a few paint scratches. Hell, I might put a darker stripe on the bottom third.
Or I might just pimp it up like a Viper Mark VII. Dawn would hate me for that. Oh well.
Not quite the car I wanted, but I can live with it. Still has 1 year left on the warranty as well.
And then Friday night happened. Now that we have the car, Dawn and I decided to change it up a bit for dinner. And en route, WHAM! I was rear ended at a traffic light. Luckily, ICBC will cover the lot, as I wasn’t at fault, but fuck me, when will this all stop? It’s like there’s a rain cloud constantly over my head. But thus is life, I do live in Vancouver, and it is monsoon season.
Maybe I need more jaunts to Hastings and Main. Then all the prostitutes, drug dealers, users, thieves, and the like can look up from their filth to me and shout ‘Save Us’.
And I’ll look down and whisper ‘No’.
Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.
