Car repairs....grrrrrrrrrrrrr

I really should have a better attitude about getting my car fixed. It's not like this is new for my car, as every other day there seems to be a light warning me of danger or a new problem, it's just got crap timing. I mean, it gets me around town, most of the time. In this instance I began to notice my car smelled like gas and I was only getting about 230 miles to the tank instead of 330. Now, I am not the soul of immediate car maintenance, so I assumed if I got an oil change I would be fine, but on my way to get the much needed oil change, I noticed the $20 I put in my tank the other day got me about 38 miles. I mean, wow. I could get in the car and the gas needle would be where it was the day before, so it wasn’t leaking when it was parked, but the gas needle was making a sickening dive. I mean, gas is almost $3.00 a gallon and I’m averaging 6 miles to the gallon—bad news! Also, when I went to get it washed, the guy who was set to vacuum the inside started yelling in Spanish, and pointed to the puddle of gas beneath my car. I'm not a car professional but, well, a puddle of gas can't be good, eh? So, I took it to the nearest car repair place where they wanted $99 just to look at the car and since it’s a VW, an additional $30 for being stupid enough to buy a foreign car. I then, after a short bit of hyperventilating, called my friend Roy. Roy might be more than my friend, maybe not, but I figured he’s male and he talks about his truck all the time, maybe he would know someone who could fix my car with a more ‘We can get the job done with duct tape and paper clips.’ approach than the ‘Why don’t we keep the body and replace everything underneath it?’ way the dealership likes to spend my money. He directed me to Jesse, who said he’d look at it today and give me the diagnosis. I asked him to not, if he could at all avoid it, make me cry like a baby. So, if you’ve ever sweated a car repair, please join me in the full body clench one might have if one were awaiting the impact of an atomic bomb. Back to my attitude regarding car care. When it’s in the shop, as it is now, I miss it dearly because I’m either house bound or begging rides. Right now I’m bound in my sister’s house and dependant on her good graces to go where I need to go. It kills me. Since Jesse’s shop is on the east side of Phoenix and my house is far North, I thought it would be a good idea to have Jesse drop me at the pool hall (Where all good things happen, of course!) and my sister could pick me up later. It was sound in theory as I figured I’d give him the car, hang out with my sister, he’d have it done today (Tuesday, for those on the other side of the planet!) early enough for me to run some errands, and I would just stay the night at Mary’s house. That doesn’t seem to be the timeline we’re following today, and to have my car back splashing gas all over Phoenix doesn’t seem like such a bummer or potential health hazard. And, well, if my car were to catch on fire, that might be bad as well. I’ve heard bad things about flaming cars. I told Mary I might need her car to run errands and she nodded, as Mary often does, but this morning she left the house without waking me up, which tells me she really didn’t want to loan out her car but there wasn’t a less passive aggressive way to get that across to me. So, I’m hanging out at her house, playing on her computer, waiting for Jesse to call me with the bad news. I could be getting stuff done, like buying interview clothes (All mine are either too large, or too small, none just right.) for my job interview tomorrow. So, while I hate the car and every car payment has to be ripped from my bank account like they’re trying to take my newborn infant, I realize I have a serious need for independent transportation. I hate being stuck. I'm trying to embrace the experience as a patience lesson...Pfft!