Somehow I just wandered into this blog. But, with the way this past month has gone, I feel like wandering is all my life consists of these days. I would like to believe that I direct my own life, but then inanimate objects show me otherwise.
Four weeks ago my car battery went completely dead. It was only five-months-old. Of course it couldn't be nice enough to not start when I came out of my house and it was still parked safely in my driveway. No, it waited until I was shopping in the next town over, 20 miles away and I had just come out of my first stop. Unfortunately all of my shopping is done in towns far away because I live in rural North Carolina. To further the scenario, my husband is away at sea for two months (he's in the Merchant Marines) and my grown sons live in northern Illinois. I thank God for my stepson and that I was actually able to reach him on my first try. He came to my rescue and tried to jumpstart my battery. Of course, it refused to take a charge. So, he ran me over to Walmart and I bought a new one. That crisis solved.
A week later, the sidewall blew out on my driver's side rear tire. I was 36 miles away from home this time, in Fayetteville. Again, providence smiled and I was only half a mile away from my mechanic. He sent a guy over who put on my spare donut tire and off I went to Walmart again, to buy a new tire this time.
A week after that I took my car in to have a coolant leak fixed. This wasn't a surprise, I had been refilling my coolant once a week for over a month. But my mechanic is so good, it takes 2-3 weeks to get in to see him. He called me with the bad news - my water pump was also leaking. That was a surprise. A planned $300 repair ended up costing me almost $700.
Another week goes by and again I took my car into the mechanic to have the right front bearing hub assembly replaced. Oh, and my windshield washer reservoir has a big leak. It can wait.
Yesterday I was informed the sales center where I work will be shut down at the end of this week. My puppies will be happy I'm unemployed. They were not happy when I went back to work and showed it in various puppy-dog ways.
I've finished my first novel (a cross-genre of women's fiction and erotica) and I have bits and pieces started on five others. I've begun the process of sending out query letters to literary agents and hope one of them (besides my loving family and friends) will tell me it's pretty good and they would like to represent me. That's my hope. I think it might be good - my youngest son read it and said he liked it, but was uncomfortable reading sex scenes written by his mother. My stepson read it and really liked it. He said he was surprised, after all these years, to find out that my mind was as perverted as his. I'm pretty sure he meant that as a compliment.
Maybe all of these mechanical problems are telling me that I need to stay home and write. And if Ramen noodles is all I can afford to eat, then it's good that I like Ramen noodles. I'm wondering if fate is going to get pissed off and just kill my poor car the next time I stray from this unlikely path.
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