Philosophy can wait.
| I'd planned to write a witty entry branching off of The Harlot's observations on writing. I had a list of things I wanted to mention, including observations on the nature of politics in graduate school, the difference between undergraduate English studies and grad, and the downside to doing what you love 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I was going to write this, but something went horribly wrong. I'm supposed to be in Tennessee right now. I'm supposed to be at the hotel, having just finished a dinner at Tomato Head with The Boyfriend, stuffed full of pizza, watching Animal Cops and getting teary over the skinny kittens. But I am in Ohio. I am in Ohio because this morning, after we loaded the van up with stuff to put in storage down Sawth, the van refused to start. Moments before we tried to leave for our long drive, TB had taken her to the gas station with no problems, so this was completely unexpected. We got out of the car, came inside, called a tow truck, and I cried. I am just so nervy right now, and I'm terrified that I'll end up living out of a hotel, my van, or a small, damp cardboard box, if I can't find an apartment I'm calmer now, largely because I decided to deal with this by finishing a sock.  And check out this heel:  Very cute, yes? I finished these while watching the news and trying not to cry over pictures of Lebanese orphans, and not to think about what could possibly be wrong with my van. ("Carburetor. We could have a broken carburetor thing. What about fuel injection? Do we have that? What if the fuel isn't being injected properly? Or at all? Why don't I know anything about fuel injection? I have failed Adulthood Test #347!" and so on.) Anyone know anything about cars? Or have a large cardboard box I could borrow for a few weeks? |
posted by Sarah at 8:46 PM
Comments on "Philosophy can wait."
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Sarah said ... (11:42 AM) :
post a commentI know nothing about cars, except that mine breaks a lot, so I have nothing to offer except sympathy. And some advice based on moving into three consecutive cities relatively blind--there is always _somewhere_ to live, although you might have to compromise a little--but even if you do have to compromise a little, it's only for 6 months if you're lucky and a year at worst, and you can put up with anything for a year, and then you can move into a much better place. So buck up, admire your heel, and drink a cucumber martini, because if ever a situation called for one, this is it. I promise I won't think you're an alcoholic :)
After the van was towed away, The Boyfriend and I sat down with sake and a G&T, respectively. Didn't help me relax much, but it did make the last repeats of the sock more difficult.
Anyway, I'm more calm now. I know I'll find a place, I just don't like uncertainty. I want to know NOW, dammit.
Aww, you have my sympathy too. I was in a similar situation when we moved north. We had a week to find somewhere to live; managed to find somewhere OK short term then moved on to a lovely flat.
And I don't like to think how rubbish I am with cars. The only time I managed to diagnose a problem is when the exhaust fell off whilst driving down the motorway but there were some fairly hefty clues, the trail of sparks being the most dramatic.
I'm sure it will work out, but I hope it works out quickly and easily.
And the socks rock :)
Well, it's just the one sock for now, but thanks :)
I've been taking deep breaths all morning, and I'm still rattled for no good reason. My life has a lot of loose ends flying together at once, and one of them has just gotten seriously tangled. (See the knitting metaphor? My brain's back on this morning!)
Hopefully news later today about the car and then I can start re-planning the trip and get on with things.
Poor Specs! It will all work out, though, and in a month you will be laughing and wondering what all the worry was about.
When you do get through this, I would love to hear your thoughts on the English undergrad/grad issue, since I'm looking that way myself for the future.
Looks as if old Bessie is feeling her age - must be 10 yrs old now. And with more that a few miles on her.
I think you come by your distaste of uncertainty via DNA. I hate uncertainty as well - even when it is happening to one of my childern.
Or perhaps even more so then.
Take a deep breath and try not to forecast too far into the future.
BTW, nice heel.
Dad
that heel is execellent.
bloody cars
Thanks for the encouragement!
Panic levels have returned to normal.