It's silly, right? To be this broken up about a car? You have to understand some things, though. Most importantly, I grew as a driver in this car. My first and only accident occurred in this car. I have spent many nights chatting and flirting in this car. For a while, I had my own car, a Cavalier that was such a hazard to drive, but I loved it. It was something all mine. Once my mom got herself a car, we'd no longer have to share Betsy. She'd be all mine. But then the axle broke, other things were corroded, or falling apart, and she just wasn't worth saving, I guess. She'd never fully be mine. Just like that, it felt as though I was stripped of my freedom. For a while, I'll have to rely on others for transportation, and it gives me anxiety, waiting around for who knows what to happen.
I feel as though when things are looking up, the universe has to shake things up for me a little bit. Car first, apartment next. It's as though the restart button was pushed on the gaming console before you could get to a save checkpoint, but y'know, real life things. Now back to waiting to find and save for a car again, pushing my move out date to next year. Goodbye, more freedoms. I want a cat companion. I want to be able to spread out my possessions, rather than cramming everything into one little bedroom. I want things to call my own so I can feel like I have accomplished something, anything.
heaven's to betsy
Powered by Blogger.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
I write what I write because I enjoy words. If you've got a few for me, cool. If they're negative, I don't care. If they're positive, that's cool, too.