Saturday, April 22, 2023

Fuckin' Tire. Fuckin' Wheel. Fuckin' Car.

So I was coming home from a night out last/Friday night.  Hey, I was in The Fourth Department, I earned it.  As I got home the low tire air light came on.  It had a propensity to come in for an extended period but years ago, so I thought that the bad sensor reared its ugly head again.  So I stopped by a gas station that had free air, stuck it in the driver's-side front tire because that's the one that always needs it, guessed how much air it needed, then drove home.

Used the minivan to see Grandmother's friend (whom I did not see; she was asleep, and I have a rule that I don't want to wake people up because I don't want to be woken up while I'm asleep).  Came home, then decided to check out the tire -- you know, just in case.  And I'll be goddamned, but it was just about flat again.  I don't know what the fuck is up with it, but that tire has consistently been giving me trouble ever since that fateful goddamn day I ran over those train tracks right next to Centro.  I swear it's the wheel/rim, but I've been told once already it's not.  And when I finally was able to change it out for my spare (they're right; change tires on level ground), I couldn't find a puncture.

On top of all that, I freaked out because my spare looked like it was out of air.  I think I stroked out as I sloooooooooowly drove off and tried to find a place I could put air in this spare.  I went to three places; two of them, both at gas stations, were out of order.  I also tried a DIY place, but I didn't see an air hose anywhere.  Finally, I remembered, and got to, a gas station that did have an air hose, and by God, I jacked up that spare with as much air as I could have given it.  (Should've gauged the spare before I put in the hose, however; that way I would know exactly how much air to put in it.  This is where I get all panicked again.  Need to think under pressure!)  But my anxiety that ignites in me whenever my car breaks down, well, I felt it as soon as I saw the deflated tire on my car.  And my heart's still beating a mile a minute.  I hate this feeling.  I feel minutes coming off of my life because of the fear I feel right now.

With that being said, I am finding ways to alleviate my anxiety.  Masturbation helped for, like, a minute.  Now, I will probably use the minivan to drive and get me some fast food.  I'll be using the minivan for a while; no shop is open tomorrow (and it wouldn't even matter if there was one because I work), and then I'm back in The Fourth Department Monday and Tuesday.  Plus I finally was able to get the oil down to 15%, which seems like a good time to get the oil changed (and, according to the car, to also rotate the tires [he-heh] and exchange the coolant.  Oh yeah -- the rattling and squealing underneath the car, too.  It'd make sense to get all those things done at once, and I might as well take a day off and do it this week.  But this is all the more reason I like having a spare car.  I don't have to miss a beat when it comes to important things like work.  If I only had one car, I would be stuck at home and have to reorder every part of my schedule for days on end.

Now, I just have to hope that the minivan holds up.  I'll be honest, though; after getting the water pump, mount and brake pads replaced just over a year ago, I think it's a very reliable vehicle.  In fact, I kind of feel safer there than in my car ever since my car started rattling and squealing.

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