So, it’s not Thursday.
The fact that this post is coming out three days late is a combination of Thursday being Thanksgiving and being the middle of one hell of work week.
Last pay period, I worked 100 hours…and it looks like I’m well on the way towards 100 hours this pay period. I’m about torn between exasperation and appreciation. I don’t like working so much (I don’t like the havoc it wrecks on my mental facilities or my patience); but I do appreciate the extra money it brings me. Extra money is something I sorely need right now.
Buying a newish car should not be this hard and I suppose it wouldn’t be if I didn’t have such rigid and exact standards.
Yesterday I went to the Honda dealership after to work to find out that the car I wanted sold five minutes before I walked in the building. I was, to put it bluntly, crushed. One full month that car has sat on the lot, while I drive by almost every day. One full month I have worked my butt off to add enough to my down payment to keep the monthly payments at or below $200. And five minutes before I walk in the door, it finally sells?
Then, of course, the salesman tries to talk me into a lease for a brand spanking new car. “Tried to talk me into” is a generous description. Apparently, all young women should want a fancy new car and a lease is better than a loan, and I shouldn’t let my mother dictate the quality of my ride. (The last time I was in there, I had brought Mom with me as muscle. Judging from the smooth streak of manipulative sales talk I got without her, it worked rather well!)
I finally told him in blunt, possibly rude terms that I didn’t want a fancy new car on a lease; I wanted the black 2012 Civic they’d just sold. The car I’ve been watching and working for. And then I walked out. In hindsight, it’s probably a good thing that car sold before I walked in, because I’m sure the vultures would have descended had they seen how much I really wanted that car.
So now I’m back to saving. Two more weeks, maybe a month more. Honestly, I’d rather freeze in my car without heat then go look at other vehicles right now. I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d come to think of that car as mine.
And, the more I save, the more cash I’ll have as a downpayment. The bigger the downpayment, the lower the monthly payments will have to be. At least, that’s the rationale I’ve come up with to justify this very childish sulking fit I seem to have fallen into since Honda sold my car right out from underneath me. Of the two of us, the ’91 Pontiac is behaving more maturely, I think. She hasn’t broken down out of spite or jealously just yet. Maybe she’s saving it for when I actually replace her, or maybe she’s just trying to get back into my good graces.
Ah, well. The car of my dreams is now not only a Honda Civic and not a Toyota Yaris, it’s now a black Civic.
Just not the one that got away.
Damn it. I really wanted that car!