No Making Out on My Car

I moved from behind a trailer the other day that said, "We Cover Our Haul For YOUR Safety," because they were going far enough under the speed limit to make my ass twitch, but not before something flew from their "haul" and hit my car. Luckily for them, I was too busy driving to notice that whatever it was, had hit my windshield. Low and behold when I got home, there was a chip in the glass.

About a day later, I noticed someone had rubbed the left side of my rear bumper. This is not just a door ding or a bump. In order to make the marks and scratches left behind, my car had to have physically moved. The damage is completely conspicuous. But alas, no note. What kind of world do we live in where some dickhead rubs my rear and doesn't, so much as, leave me a number?

The scratches are no biggy. I've been guilty of trying to run over trash cans and forgetting to set the emergency break in the past, so we already realize that this car is ours forever, or until the junk yard takes it away. We don't see any reason to pay the insurance company any more than we already do every month. So, pretty much, it's not getting fixed!

The extremely entertaining bummer of it is that the chip on my windshield was pretty substantial. It has since grown into a crack. The crack is traveling. At first it went up. Then it went down. Then it slid straight across to the passenger side where it has decided to turn north once more. I can't keep track of the crack. It is bigger every time I get in my car. In short, my crack is out of control!

I love my car. I do. It is so very useful and it's good on gas. Further more I spend too much on it in payments, insurance, fuel and oil changes to ditch it and ride the bus. I don't mind the scratches, but I am going to have to pay for a windshield. It seems like it's always something. I can't come out ahead. My rear's been rubbed, my crack is traveling and I can't make out with out spending some money.

Ah me. Such is life.