But damn, I’ve had a lot of appointments lately! Mostly doctors, but also taking my car to a dealer for a recall this morning. I called yesterday because they sent me an email to confirm service for my 2025 Forester hybrid — when ACTUALLY I drive a plain old 2005 Forester.
I called their service department and the scheduler told me such a mix-up “couldn’t” happen. And yet, they frequently happen to me, as I explained. “Look, I’m just calling to have you confirm you ordered the right parts,” I said. “I don’t care how it happened.”
So let’s see if they have the right parts today.
My car’s also making an annoying clunking noise when it shifts. My exterminator predicted it’s either the motor mounts or the transmission mounts. “I had the exact same problem,” he said. I hope he’s right.
I finally got a settlement from when my car got totaled almost two years ago exactly. I think I should have gotten more, because, you know, concussion, neuralgia, and several new herinated discs (plus the other driver was driving distracted) but oh well. I didn’t want to go back to court and wait another two years, so. I was hoping to have enough to buy a much newer car, but I was paralyzed with Know-Too-Much-ism. “Yes, this is a really good car but beware of oil leaks,” one site warned. “Prone to extensive electrical problems,” another one said about one I thought was a pretty good deal.
Finally I said, “Fuck it. Stick with the devil you know.” And that means I can afford to move away from this particular family of mice.
I’m looking. But Jesus, the rent really is too damn high. To get anything remotely comparable is double the rent I pay now — and hardly any of them include utilities. No wonder people are so pissed.
