The Homicidal Urges

Today's been a bit of a write-off so far.

I took the day off so I could work on this review and take in my car for its complimentary service. Driving to Brighton through the city at 1.30 pm was about as fun as swallowing razor blades. I forgot that every fool and his canine companion come out and drive in the CBD at lunch time, most likely getting the canine companion to drive, judging by some of the driving performances I was subjected to. And again, after I'd cleared the CBD, they'd decided to close off two fucking lanes on Kingsway between the Yarra and Queens Parade, funneling everyone into the other lanes. I barely made it at 2 pm.

Well, I did make it, got Shiny inspected and washed. It is shiny again. At least until the next bird has a diarrhoea attack on it. Then made small talk with the nice girl who showed me back to the car (which I am no freaking good at, so I don't know why I even try), got in and drove back. The drive back was much more pleasant.

Anyway, the point of this post: I had Eva's computer with me so I could do some work in the dealership, and on the drive back, I put it on the front seat. Now, my new car has all these bells and whistles. It beeps at odd times, and most of the time I have no bloody idea what's going on. So, all of a sudden, over the loud strains of music, I hear this beeping, and I'm wondering, "Huh?" And then I see that the light warning that someone isn't wearing their seatbelt is flashing.

And I realise that the dumb fuck car has detected the weight of the computer in the front seat and thinks it's a person. NOT WEARING HIS/HER SEATBELT...OH NOEZ!

I'll never get used to these newfangled cars.

---

Meanwhile, I'm getting no bloody work done. I think I'll take Jezzy for a walk. It'll probably be more productive.

As much as I love my trusty hunk-of-junk car, Rusty, and as much character as she has, I'll also be so glad to one day drive a car whose:

* shocks and suspension don't creak and groan with every turn of the wheel
* idea of acceleration is not: "Oh, I don't think so, sweetheart. I'm not meant for this velocity. I'm too old!"
* de-mister and heater actually work, rather than producing a horrible burning smell and somehow making the engine emit weird noises too (this was especially pertinent this morning. Driving blind is not fun. I keep a rag in the car to wipe the windows - actually, no. It's worse than that. I use a sanitary pad. No, not one that's been "pre-loved", you idiots)
* consumption of petrol is appropriate to its engine capacity (my 4-cylinder car should NOT be using the same amount as a 6-cylinder)
* speakers aren't totally crapped out and making horrible static-y noises.
* (a cd player would be nice too. Tape deck?? Wtf?)

Yes, I know that if I serviced her more regularly and fixed up those problems, Rusty would run fine.

(a) she's not worth it. She's a '91 Camry!
(b) I don't have the money (which ties in very closely to (a) )
(c) The above plan is my Future plan. It might have no bearing in reality. I will probably be stuck with Rusty for a while. God, two years off 30 and I've never bought a car. Some might call that being lucky, I suppose.

....yes, I'm at the office, writing my thesis. How did you know?????