i'm currently sitting in the lounge at the honda dealer, listening to huey lewis and the news songs being played at an unacceptable volume at this point in the morning and drinking bad coffee. non-dairy creamer powder is a disturbing substance. (love shack by the b-52s just came on. i find this a tad more acceptable, but still a little too loud - oh my god, i turned 33 and became a crotchey old lady that is sensitive to noise. however, i did also snicker at using the word crotchety.)
anyhow, my brakes are getting serviced. while i prefer to not die, it just hurts to spend this money, knowing a) i don't have a lot of cash, and b) my parents will help me out. it's a small matter of pride/responsibility - again with the being 33 years old thing.
considering selling whatever organs i have two of - cornea, kidney... um, lung? my unborn twin that i've been carrying around since birth? i'd sell my eggs, but that pesky age thing again, apparently i'm past the preferred expiration date. besides, a small version of me running around somewhere out there is kind of weird to think about.
btw, don't worry, if you know me, jokes are just how i deal with this - i'm not really that poverty-stricken. no one is every that happy to shell out cash for their car. now considering walking to denny's down the street to escape the godawful music. peace out.