Two weeks ago if you had asked me how this move was going, I would have been all, “Good! We’re just doing it gradually, I pack a few boxes every day while Olive naps. Adam took the first load over last weekend, and surprisingly, I’m not even that stressed!”
Ha! oh my god! I was fucking delusional! Like, I couldn’t even type that with a straight face. Oh yeah, just packing a few boxes here and there, everything’s great! Ha! Hahahahaha!
A few days ago Adam came home from hanging out with some of his friends and mentioned that our car was making a horrific noise. I brushed it off, because we were getting close to needing an oil change and it sometimes makes a grumbly sort of rattle when it’s getting close to that time. Adam insisted that it was really bad, but the same delusional thinking that made me think packing up our entire lives and moving five hours away with a four month old while trying to meet a book deadline was “Fine! Just great!” made me not even think that the problem was a problem.
Until the next morning when we went to drive it to get an oil change and I was like What. The. Fuck.
it sounded like…a raccoon? Or a helicopter? Or an angry raccoon who has accidentally hitched a ride on a helicopter and wasn’t at all happy about it. I felt like the car was going to blow up each and every second of that five minute drive to the mechanics.
And then Adam popped the hood and him and four burly mechanics stood around looking at it. I tried to take a picture because I swear this is one of men’s favorite activities, regardless of whether or not they know anything at all about cars. They pop the hood and everyone grabs a beer and they all just stand there looking at the incomprehensible mass of metal and wires and someone says something about a piston and they all nod thoughtfully.
I was watching this go down from inside of Adam’s truck, and started to get this sinking feeling in my gut. Sure enough, when Adam returned to tell me the verdict it was this : The entire motor needs to be replaced.
“Are you sure it doesn’t just need an oil change?” I asked hopefully. And they all laughed, and then kicked the tires and started talking some nonsense about pistons and cracked cylinders and all I could hear was “Your car is dead. It will cost lots of time and lots of money to fix it” and guys, we have neither of those things. we have neither time, nor money, because HELLO! We’re moving in six days!
The cost to fix it would be about half the total value of the car. A car that is amazing, and we’ve loved, but no longer fits our family. So the burly mechanics suggested we list the car on Craigslist with the blown motor, and someone with mechanical knowledge could take the time to find a motor and replace it.
So we did that, and while Adam was cursing our luck and swearing and calling down all manner of hellfire on that car, I was being very zen about it. I was even smiling! I was like “Woah Adam, calm down. It’s just a car. A car that we knew we wanted to get rid of eventually anyway”. I was so relaxed and calm, seriously like one step away from flashing a peace sign and saying “Don’t stress mannnn.”
Cut to an hour later, and we had completely traded positions.
Adam was all excited because we’d gotten a ton of response from the ad and it looked like we’d be able to sell it before we moved. Meanwhile I had completely lost my mind. Like, what were we going to do without a car?
How was I going to go grocery shopping and set up mail forwarding and get to appointments or, you know, LEAVE THE HOUSE IN THIS CONSTANT MONSOON without a vehicle? And beyond that, how the eff were we going to get out of here? And how were we going to get a new one?
Ugh ugh UGH. This always happens with moves. The first few weeks are all carefully packed and labelled boxes and excitement over a fresh start, the last week is throwing random shit in anything with a lid and every label reads “Misc.”, and I am constantly in tears because my house is chaos and my baby is chaos and our whole lives are chaos what are we even doing?
In conclusion it might be quiet around here for a while until I get my life sorted out. And all that is keeping me going is chubby cheeks, coffee and the amazing story that we will be able to tell in a few years time.
“…So we took the plunge and decided to move. We had no job lined up and no house to live in and our car broke down the week before we left. Olive was teething and Mama was so stressed that she lost three pounds in two days because she kept forgetting to eat, and Papa had accidentally moved all of our pots and pans. It did nothing but rain, and everything was dark and wet but we kept the faith and trusted that it would work out and we took the plunge.
We moved and started a new life and it was the best thing we ever did…”