Posted by: k | February 24, 2008

Torn between an egg and a fast pace.

I’ve made it my mission to replace my car (affectionately known as “The Egg”) in the first half of this year.

I love my car – I’m very emotionally attached to it. It’s my first car. I learned to drive in it, I got my licence in it, and I’ve had it nearly two years. But the poor little thing is starting to fall apart at the seams. Since I’ve had it, I’ve had numerous things replaced on it: the clutch, engine mounts, various hoses, a shaft boot, gearbox selectors, gearbox bushes, the complete reverse gear, a couple of tyres, brakes, and other things I know I’ve forgotten about.

My car has it’s upsides, too – it’s very small, so I can park it just about anywhere, and it runs on the smell of an oily rag. In fact, I sometimes think I could spit in the fuel tank and it would be enough to get me around for a week!

I don’t drive a lot, mainly just to and from work, because Matt does the majority of the driving. I think this is because he’s got a newer, better car, and hey, he’s got a pretty massive car loan, so we may as well get our money’s worth, yeah? But I love to drive, especially when there’s no rush to be anywhere, the road’s fairly traffic free, and then it’s enjoyable.

Those 7 weeks I couldn’t drive my car, I was devastated. My independence was gone… and I absolutely hated it. When I got back into my car the other week, it was awesome. I didn’t even mind the peak hour traffic!

I mention my car now, because the original plan was to trade it in towards the end of April, when the rego is due for renewal. But there’s now a proverbial spanner in the works.

A couple of the people Matt worked with resigned, and they finished up on Friday. One of them was responsible for the work ute – taking it home of a night, and on weekends.

Matt was given the ute on Friday, and at the moment it looks like he’s going to have it indefinitely. Which is great for him, because he gets around in a ute he doesn’t have to maintain, and he also gets a fuel card for it… free petrol! However, we barely have enough driveway to store three cars, let alone four! So on Friday night, I drove Matt’s car up to his Mum’s house so it could be parked safely in her backyard.

We’ve discussed it today, and if Matt does have the ute indefinitely, that means his car’s going to be sitting there unused. And considering he’s paying roughly $500 a month in repayments and insurance, it’s a pretty stupid idea for his car just to sit there.

So the idea was… I try and sell my car now, and then drive Matt’s until I buy another one.

I’m being a typical emotional female here. I mean, it’s just a car, right? A car that could probably make it up a small hill faster if you pushed it. A car that needs a new engine. A car that water gets into when it rains. A car that’s becoming so unreliable I’m starting to rejoice when it completes the 28km round trip to work every day. And yet, I know I’m going to bawl my eyes out when it goes. It’s my car, and I love it. I own it outright. I have adorned it with butterfly and heart glass stickers and a teddy bear light that goes in my cigarette lighter. It has the ding in the side of it from my first accident (stupid bitch) and it crunches whenever I turn right (CV joints…) but it is mine.

And yet, I know, that when I buy my new(er) car, and drive it for the first time, that I’m going to be over the moon. A car that accelerates! A car with power steering! A car with all the mod cons like air conditioning and a CD player!

But my car! My poor little egg… our time together is even more limited than I had originally planned. And I’m very, very, very sorry, but… you just don’t do it for me anymore. I’m afraid the lure of a newer car, in better condition, with an extra set of doors and power steering is just becoming too great.
(My eyes are watering now, see, I told you I was being typically emotional.)

It looks like I’ve got one more week with my egg, before Matt lists it for sale and it’s confined to the front yard until someone comes along and is able to provide it with more love and TLC than I can. I’ll have to clean it out – there’s still jackets in the backseat from last winter! – take off my seat and steering wheel covers – sigh – and prepare to part ways…

I’m going to cry like a kid who had it’s lollipop stolen when it’s sold. At this point, I’m not even thinking about how much I want for it. It’s the emotional attachment. Hell, I’ve even scrapbooked about my car!

On the upside, I’ll be driving Matt’s car which has twice the power under the bonnet (uh oh!), power steering, CD player… but it won’t be the same.

I bet, in a month or two, when I have my new car, I’ll link back to this and laugh myself stupid. But for now, my heart is breaking (yeah yeah, overdramatic much?).

Would anyone like to join me in my totally ridiculous pity party?



  1. A lot of emotion on a simple subject. Deep.

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