Plans, Just Like Rules, Are Meant To Be Broken

As is the case with most stories worth remembering, it all started benignly enough. Friday two weeks ago, I got up and took care of my usual morning routine (You know, showering, flossing, blah, blah). Afterwards, I deviated slightly from the norm by taking some time to call my friend/landlord/overall good human being/mechanic (Actually, she's sort of the shop manager/scheduler) to schedule an oil change. The car was due for one. I've been known to procrastinate on many issues in my life, and procrastination on car maintenance was definitely something I was notorious for, but circumstances have definitely forced a change in my car maintenance habit.

First, the car's getting a little bit old and a bit up there on the miles. It's a '94 with just a tick's hair under 190,000 miles. Secondly, the car has had a particularly brutal life. Most of my jobs in social services have involved a huge portion of home based services and social services being what it is, there are usually no company cars, so my car has pretty much criss-crossed the county in my efforts to be of help to other people. Third, the wife and I just agreed we were going on the financial equivalent of a prison lock down because we really wanted to buy our own home by the end of this year. The market may be bad for folks losing homes but it also means it's a good market to be buying homes (Living off of other's misfortunes; it's the free market capitalist way!). The net result of these factors was the fact that I simply could not afford to have the car breakdown and be forced into a situation where me and the wife are paying an exorbitant amount for maintenance or outright buying a newer used car.

I have to take a little (Ok, not so little) tangent before I continue the story. The work week this story took place in had been particularly painful and brutal (There goes that word again. Definitely can't shake it off when talking about working in social services). I had been working 10 to 12 hour days because timing, circumstances, cosmic karma, etc. had saddled me with three massive reports ranging from 20 to 30 pages, each being due on the same day with very little lead time to get started. The lead times were so short that I actually had to do most of the investigations (i.e. conducting interviews, collecting supporting documentation, answering phone call, etc.) for these reports the same week I was trying to write them. I came home everyday that week pretty much a zombie.

So, after having gotten ready and scheduling an oil change, I walk out of the apartment and onto the street (right in front of the apartment) where I usually parked my car. Where I thought I parked my car was an empty space. Funny enough, the space was big enough to fit my car.

Having been completely brain fried the night before, I thought I might have parked somewhere else on the block and just completely forgot about it. I looked left. I looked right. I still couldn't see the car. I called the wife over and we both walked the block. No car. My car got stolen.

Here I am, two weeks later. We have a newer used car. I haven't gotten my insurance settlement and when I do get it, it's not going to amount to much (probably won't even cover the tax we paid for the newer used car) and a prison riot has pretty much exploded on the wife and I's plan for a financial lock down. Life has a way of changing the best laid out plans.

Oh by the way, I just got a massage from one of the local massage schools. It's not the best but definitely worth the rate I paid for. More importantly, it's done wonders for my stress level. If you can afford it, definitely try it!