I just spent the past half-hour telling the story of my, seemingly, unending automobile troubles only to realize that I had already told most of the story.
I think that I have angered the Auto Gods.
We're all set to put the new engine in my car and my cousin, Michael suffers a heart-attack. At 48 years old--only 7 years older than me. Luckily, he survived and actually feels better now. He had a 90% blockage in one of his arteries and some blockage in the other three. They broke up the plaque and put a stint in the one artery and are going to wait and see on the other 3. He has to make some life-changes and I think he'll do it.
Needless to say, the engine is not in my car, yet. So I'm driving my Dad's 1990 Oldsmobile. It's nothing too pretty to look at and it's pretty dirty inside, but it gets me from place to place. However...The battery crapped out on me when I went to Abingdon and I had to buy a new one in order to get back to Asheville.
So the total is:
2 brand new batteries
1 used engine
It's just bad luck, I think.
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You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me.
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