No matter what I try to do its embroiled in chaos, disaster and drama.
Project Pauper. Husband takes job that ends a 3 year 2 hour commute. GREAT. Down side-it’s 1/2 the pay. Institute project pauper. Tight budget, big changes and we can make this work.
First big change. Only have one car payment. Get ready to sell a car ad BAM! My hubby is hit by a non-insured felon. Good times. The damage-not enough to total it…but close. Darn close. Fight insurance company—OUR insurance company mind you as DUDE is driving a brand-spanking new but un-insured sports car–over diminished value. Months go by when we are unable to engage Project Pauper which leaves us…well…you get it.
Skip ahead by MONTHS. Car fixed, diminished value fight over. Back to the PLAN. Have a little cash. Ready to go. Internet. Search. Think. Narrow down. Make decision to be practical. Re-start plan. Weeks go by. Finally we’ve got a real plan with details. Last Saturday we find 2 of the cars we are interested in 1 place. We drive 2 hours with 3 kids in tow to see said cars. First one is so cool. I am blown away by the luxury of swivel seats. How cool. How swanky. You can twist this seat so that it’s easy to get out of the car when you are wearing a skirt. I am ready to buy this bad boy until Phil points out that it’s not a swivel seat. One side of the motor is just broken. We test drive anyway but it’s not much of a drive as I can’t reach the pedals. The swivel…yeah…that’s all it can do. The seats no longer move up or back.
Move to car 2. It’s sweet. Little cock-pit inside. Okay. Test drive. LIttle rattle and the radio doesn’t sound great but hey–test the center console and WA-BAM. Hope the previous owner isn’t looking for his Marlboro’s. And the price we thought was for the POS in the back. This one is double the cash we have on hand. Opppsss…
today we try again. I leave work only 15 minutes late for the first time in oh, 2 months. Scurry to Phil. We travel to Lawrenceville. At the pre-arranged visible, public place we wait, and wait and wait. Phil calls IDIOT. he’s only 5 minutes away. No problem. We wait. And wait. Finally a powder blue station wagon pulls up beside us. Columbia drug lord shirt man steps out. “Idiot?” Phil asked the gentleman. “Si!” Long, awkward pause. “So we are here to see the car.” Drug lord makes a flourishing gesture with his hands. Phil says the make of the car we are here to see an it’s NOT the car being presented. Drug lord starts to laugh, and laugh and laugh. Turns out he’s here in the wrong car. Oh vey. We can go to his house to see the right one but he’s afraid he won’t have a key for it. This is how Craig’s list murders happen. Phil assures him we will wait here in this well-lit public place. “5 minutes,’ drug lord moron says as he sputters away.
20 minutes later he pulls up in the right car. Phil and I had worked out code words as we traveled down the road so that the other knew if it was a go or a no way. I was already suspicious about this deal so I had decided that Phil was going to have to give me to code word of GO before I even got out of the car. Instead I hear, “Ohhh mann…as I was driving here the check engine light came on,’ Mutha….I’ll not finish that thought. I take THAT as my code word and keep my happy patootie in the car. Phil being sweet hopes out to inspect the right vehicle.
10 minutes later he is back in the car laughing. Turns out all the numbers on the cock-pit like dashboard have been worn off. The check engine light is indeed on. Phil tried to look interested and opened the sun-roof only to discover that it doesn’t close. And it’s raining. Turns out there wasn’t much on this car that worked. No wonder idiot brought the wrong car the first time.
Need-less-to-say we are back home. Car less. Back to planning the first step of Project Pauper.