Subtitled: A Whales Tale.

Not to be confused with a whales tail of course….

Because THAT, to mix metaphors, would be a horse of a completely different color.

October 17, 2015 I am sitting at a stop sign in Pensacola, Florida. I look in my rear view mirror and life changes drastically from there.

I wrote about that incident here, click this link if you would like to be reminded of it. I live it every day.

I drove a rental for a couple of weeks while waiting for the pay off on my vehicle…my poor, sweet Del Sol…and looked for another source of transportation.

My livelihood depends on me being mobile.

I looked through Craigslist. Made countless phone calls, and appointments to see cars. Most stood me up. Time was running out and I did get one guy who had a car to show me.

The blue whale. A 2001 Saturn wagon. It wasn’t perfect. Needed brakes, needs struts. And so he sold it cheap.

Turned out that it REALLY needed brakes…to the tune of $1200 dinero. And it still needs struts. I keep weighing the cost of struts against how long I could keep driving the Whale against what a car payment would be over the same relative period of time.

Ugh. Makes me crazy sometimes…because one part of me screams, “GET RID OF THE MONEY PIT!”

And the other keeps reminding me to look at the numbers.

And during all of this, the Whale keeps chugging along. 35 miles to the gallon. The ride is shaky but straight and true.  I swear the car can read my mind. Every time I start thinking about cutting my losses on it, it starts acting like it is a normal vehicle and not a black hole that only accepts $100 bills.

So here I sit, yet again, on a Saturday morning trying to figure out which direction to go.

And the Whale sits patently in front of the Meth Lab.