I can't take it anymore.  Don't have to go in for work on Friday, so I decided to bring the car in solve the starting problem and the smell problem ... and I'm taking it to the Mechanic Around The Corner, even though I don't want to.

Yes, the same guys from which I took the car after another round of repairs just three weeks ago -- which is around the time both problems began.  The same guys whom I've spent countless thousands of dollars to repair and fix stuff.  The same guys from whom other things have sprung up, like a more massive oil leak, the sudden draining of my coolant and power steering fluids, and now the long time in starting, which is taking longer and longer.

Why am I taking it back to these guys?  In my gut, I don't trust them.  I was going to go to this place My Father recommends.  Well, actually it's a mechanic whose card he gave me back after he forced himself to help me with the car that night.  I had the route mapped out and everything; I was going to go there top of Friday morning, take the bus and then the light rail to the Mall of America, and use Twin Cities public transportation all the way back to Father's mechanic, where hopefully my car would be returned to perfect health.  Unfortunately, they're closed Thanksgiving Weekend.  And The Mechanic Around The Corner is not.

I could be very, very stupid.  These guys could just be jerking me around, shaking me down for more money because I'm just a goddamn sucker with a sentimental streak for a car that should have been destroyed five years ago and they want to see what they can get away with, in terms of both doing shit to my car and seeing how much I'm willing to pay to get things fixed.  But, maybe I shouldn't attribute malevolence to that which is easily explained by incompetence.  Since these problems began right after I got the car back from them, maybe they forgot to put something back, or they hit something as they were fixing the car three weeks ago.  Maybe I'm being paranoid, and maybe they genuinely want to fix what is genuinely broke.  And hell, maybe the fix will be cheap and inexpensive.  Naw, I'm fooling myself about the cheap and inexpensive.

Bottom line is that it's getting longer and longer to start the car, and now I'm fucking worried.  My heart is literally pounding most of the time I'm driving, and it's affecting me hours after I'm done driving.  I can't handle the fucking stress!  I wouldn't have minded holding off a month, but I can't because this is driving me fucking crazy.

So I'm going back to The Mechanic Around The Corner.  Either I have been asking them to douse fires on a car with cascading problems (which is something that happens with really old cars), or I'm inviting them to rip me off for another thousand dollars again, or they're just going to fuck up the car again.  We'll see Friday -- assuming the car makes it.