Improper Alignment and a Proposal

I bought a car.

Thanks to some help with a down payment and the astounding $300 in trade I was able to score for Betsy, whose fender was resting atop the tire, whose bumper was mostly on the ground, and who began to hemmorhage coolant somewhere around the state line.

I am the proud (and broke AF) new owner of a 2012 Equinox.

And an 18 percent shit credit auto loan. Which I will pay for a year and then try desperately to refinance.

It’s gonna be fine. I’m pretty sure it’s probably gonna be mostly fine.

Anyhow, I got a call this morning from the dealership.

“We need you to come re-sign your contract.”

Um. Say what now?

“All the numbers are still the same. We just need you to re-sign.”

Because why?




“The fuck you say?”

“I say alignment, homie.”

That is basically the conversation. I’m paraphrasing. But it’s fine. I’ve been properly trained to paraphrase.

Calm y’all’s tits please.

Honest to God, I thought they meant, like, the bank wouldn’t give me a loan unless the car was, like, aligned or some shit. And then I was like, this jerk done sold me a car he didn’t align, and I’m not gonna lie I went from zero mad as hell exceptionally quickly.

Turns out no.

The agreement had printed out one eighth of a nose hair off center and the bank rejected it.

And tried to charge Ed Shults $500 to resubmit it.


I mean.

How awful.

So. Extra trip to Jamestown for literally thirty seconds was fun. Especially in a car that is not quite as easy on fuel as dear, busted-ass Betsy.

But I don’t care because I’m no longer plowing the road with my stupid Vin Diesel body kit or unable to get enough traction at a stop light for six months out of the year to reasonably expect that I will get through on the green.

It’s totally worth it.

Also, I have been seriously revising my book proposal. I still need the sample chapter. I still need that essay on paper. It’s still the heart of this collection. But the proposal has been getting dusty for months and even though I knew it needed to be revised I just haven’t been able to drag its tired ass out.

I drug it out Wednesday night.

I’m actually pretty excited about it.

It’s got a couple more drafts to go, and of course I’ve got a month or two in drafting and polishing the first essay.

But the rest are basically just easy writes comparatively. I’ll tell you one thing about writing for a daily publication: neither deadlines nor commitments are able to scare me any longer.

Not at all.

Shit needs written, shit gets written, and that’s the end of that story. None of the grad school thesis project hemming and hawing. It gets done because there’s no other acceptable option.

Like parenting.

And paying the car note.

I love how the hardest things in life are the only ones worth doing.


I do love it.

Even when I hate it.

Which is every moment that I’m actively doing them, it seems.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s