Can’t Fix It? F**k It.

Poor Ol’ Dad came over yesterday to bemoan the terrible decrepitness of my poor car.  Now, I know my car is getting on in years (it’s a 2002) but it’s A) still running and B) not as bad as Pearl’s!  And I’m what you might call “hard on cars” — I drove my previous (14-year-old) car until the Blue Book value went up and down depending on how much gas was in it!  Like, I go to pay my property tax and THEY LAUGH AT ME because it’s like $12.

So, my point is, I KNOW the car is not long for this world, but you know what?  I can’t fix that.  All I can do is start socking a little money away for the inevitable car payments to come in my future.  So why worry?

This is the basis for what I’m trying to make my new personal motto:  “Can’t Fix It?  Fuck It.”  What I’m trying to do is not wig out about things over which I have no control, because you know what that gets you?  An 11-day stay in Club Hospital Bed.  I’m not saying I won’t PREPARE for things (have we met?), I’m just not going to sit and worry myself into a frazzle over shit I can really do nothing about.

My very dear therapist says part of my problem is that I act like someone with PTSD except I don’t have any TS to be Post of.  So that constant vigilance is what’s making me nuts.  My early New Year’s Resolution, therefore, is to LET. SHIT. GO.  Be ready, not crazy.  We’ll see how she flies.

Advertisements

36 Comments

Filed under I Rule You, La Vida Loca

36 responses to “Can’t Fix It? F**k It.

  1. In my world, a 2002 is practically a new car. It’s only 10 years old! The only time I ever had a car that young was when Grandpa passed away, and Grandma went out and bought herself a brand new Honda Civic. She had never had a NEW car before, and always wanted a spoiler… anyway, she sold me her old car, a 1996 Grand Am, teal exterior, grandma-beige inside, 38K miles. This was in 2002 or so.

    My current car is a 1999.

    Um… I forgot my point. I believe that being a child, and being a teenager, and being in my twenties was enough TS to give me PTSD.

    Like

    • Chuckweasel is losing his damn mind that my car is this old — he used to be one of those “new car every 2 years” people… which might explain why he no longer has a car at all…

      Like

      • Wow. So, I bought my car with 110,000 miles already on it, and it is my favorite car EVAR. I was able to pay cash for it, which is really good because I am allergic to financing.

        Like

  2. Years ago, I read “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff…” Useless.
    What I want is a magic pill to fix me.

    Let me know how you work that all out. I could use a few pointers.

    Like

  3. Dear Sweet Mama

    You know, your Dear Old Dad just wants your car to hold out as long as possible by only having you drive it so that it accumulates less miles. And, my darlin, since you were so ill, you really do need to keep your car in your clutches in case you have a doctor’s visit, trip for meds, etc. – at least until all this mess is straightened out.
    How are you doing on the no food diet? Have you started introducing new things yet? The info on the pancreatic diet says no red meat anymore ever. Sigh. Or alcohol. Which would you rather suffer for – a hamburger or a Mojito? I know what I would go for.

    Like

    • yeah, that diet can bite me — I’m being careful, but I am eventually going to eat real food again! As GAWD is mah witness! And not driving the car because it is old is the same as not having the car at all, so I’m just doing what had to be done and hoping for the best!

      Like

  4. Hoody! Dagnabit girl, are you mocking my car?! Why I oughta…

    🙂

    Seriously, though, I do drive a car held together by parachute rope, duct tape, and bubble gum. Then again, it was a one-payment car almost three years ago, and the dang thing starts, has heat, and brake lights. 🙂

    Pearl

    Like

  5. I agree with yo mama….you must have a functioning vehicle. Unless you are planning on making chuckles your personal driver. Hmmm, that might be a thought.

    I like your new outlook on dealing with crap. Hope that works out for you. If not, there’s always drugs! 🙂

    Also, I’ve decided since ’tis the season & all that, I am changing my name once again, just to recognize all the Fa la fucking la.

    Like

    • I heartily approve of the name — I thought it needed a little something! And I can’t force the car to live with willpower and fairy dust alone, so I’m just preparing for the inevitable!

      Like

  6. My very first car was a 1981 Monte Carlo WITH T-TOPS, MOTHERFUCKER! Oh, it was so rad, we’d stuff 13 or so of us in it and cruise until the cops would yell at us, as they passed, to “go unload”. Same cops also would “bust” our beer parties by taking a sixer and leaving. Ahh, small town life. Anyway, even though my car was boss, and got me attention from some key-ute boys, it leaked fluids like a sieve, so I had to carry gallons of water around in the trunk. Dang, I miss that car. And my Sony Discman for the car. Which bumped Dr. Dre’s The Chronic. And Garth Brooks. I was a confused teenager.

    Like

    • I totally had a Discman for my old car — it had the cassette player adapter thing and everything! Every time you hit a bump it got pissed off and started the whole CD over again!

      Like

  7. We still have a 2001 car that I drove in high school. It’s paid off so my husband just drives it back and forth to work and we bought a nicer family vehicle that I get to drive since I am the dropper offer and picker upper of the kids that way we only have one car payment. We will keep that thing until she dies.

    Like

    • I know, I REEEEEALLY like not having a car payment, but probably the next thing that goes wrong is going to be one of the too-expensive-to-fix things, so I’m trying to come to terms with it!

      Like

  8. I have a 99 vw beetle and no matter what anyone says or laughs, I plan to ride that clown car until it is just a seat and the most valuable thing about it is the fir airfreshener! It’s me against German engineering!

    Like

    • DSM’s Concubine used to have a really old BMW that would not die. Of course, it also would not do many car-related activities, such as start whenever you wanted and crap like that. We named it “Eva” in honor of Ms. Braun.

      Like

  9. Amy

    Well, my blog isn’t called “Fix it or Deal” for nothing. That is just a PG way of saying “Fix it or F**K it.” I’ve lived by this motto for years. It’s not always easy to let stuff go, but once you learn how, you’ll thank yourself.

    Like

  10. New Year’s Resolution, check. Oh, and do laundry. That’s still on the list from last year. I fail at laundry like most people fail at diets.

    Like

  11. I have that embroidered on a pillow.

    Like

  12. When I read the title of this post I had very dirty thoughts in my head. I think I need help. Lots and lots of help.

    Anywho…

    Good luck to you! This is a tough resolution to keep, but I hope you do! In fact, maybe I should join you and make this my New Year’s resolution too. I sweat all the small stuff (thankfully not literally, cuz that would be way stinky).

    Like

  13. Sage advice. I’m 100% for you embracing this motto.

    Like

  14. I drove my 98 minivan until we almost had to pay the car place to take it off our hands. That was a couple years back. Now I have a Mazda 5 and while I love that shizz, I also plan to drive it into the ground. Cars, they are for using, yo.

    I fully embrace the “Fix it or F**k it” motto, and on days that doesn’t work, then I remind myself that I have already survived X,Y,Z and anyone gets in my way? I PITY THE FOOL. *cue creepy, humorless smile*

    Like

  15. Chuckweasel

    You better blow that shit out

    Like

  16. I’m a worry-prone type, too. I try not to obsess over things that may or may not happen, but my brain likes to have something to do.

    Like

  17. Oh god…Hoody, when I read that about the PTSD without the TS, I thought “finally someone has described MY problem.”

    Thank you.

    Like

    • You’re welcome — feel free to join me in trying to RELAX in chairs instead of sitting poised-for-action… oh, and allowing ourselves to have our backs to the door in a restaurant…

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s