These oranges pretty much represent my mental state of late.
I've been keeping it pretty quiet, but last week my Toyota broke down on the side of the road and she may be a complete loss. It needs a new engine and it isn't worth the amount it will cost to repair it. Isn't it funny that what should be a super simple, cut and dry decision has me majorly pouting and dragging my feet? Add insult to injury that I still owe money on the note I used to buy her in the first place.
I've been grieving the loss of my gas guzzling SUV. Man, I loved that truck. I used and abused the hell out of it, and the idea of going back into something smaller feels so inconvenient and so claustrophobic.
I'm an ungrateful bitch. I'm a lucky girl, because I have a lot of loving friends willing to chip in and help me get around using various extra vehicles.
Paris trip means major cash, car repairs mean major cash, I already am behind the financial eightball because of my random and checkered job history for the past couple of years.
Universe teaching me a lesson about money? Again? Picture me on the floor having a full blown temper tantrum right now.
Crabby pouting crabby pout crab.
