Cars are nothing but trouble. Might need to capitalize the 'T' on that. Trouble. Yesterday, Jonathan called me saying his check-engine light came on.
His car is 11 years old, so it shouldn't be a surprise, but really? You have to start breaking down right now? When we're back on the We're-going-to-buy-a-house-this-summer kick, something we have been saying on and off for at least a year. We take the car in Monday, so fingers crossed that it's nothing major to deplete our savings. Where's public transportation when you need it?
If we have to pay a lot, we once again will be sitting tight to buy a house, which to us means putting the rest of our lives on hold: the real cooking I want to do (I've dreamed of making croissants), the card-making, the decorating, the having kids, the possible gardening, the having friends and family over that won't come visit me because my apartment is too small (or so Melissa says), the everything!
Oh, and did I mention that I'm not getting a raise?!