It’s Not an Emoticon, It’s My Life. Sad Face.

PT Cruiser Instrument Cluster, car troubles, running out of gas
Seriously y’all, my life. It’s a novel. A crazy, out of this world story. If it wasn’t for the fact that it’s actually my life, it would surely be fiction. It should be fiction, but it’s not. Let me explain.

That thing above? That’s a cluster. The word that follows cluster in your head, is EXACTLY the word that follows cluster in my head, and it starts with an F. A big, fat, capital F. And those sad faced gauges are what I see in the console of my car every day as I drive my daughter to school, and pick her up. That’s right. My cluster is dead. No gas gauge, no speedometer, no tachometer, no lights, no ANYTHING but sad faces. We ordered the new one. It’s sitting in my bedroom ready to be just plopped in my car so it will work again. But it’s not that simple.

That $100+ cluster, if it were plopped in by a shop, would cost roughly a grand. Really? No thank you. B can plop that in but it will take a couple of days with his schedule. I can’t have that kind of down time. Bug, school, and all. So we wait, with this sad face cluster sitting in my room, until I go out of town next week. Meanwhile, I deal with this “how do I manage my gas tank in the meantime” thing. Well, let me tell you how I manage it. Apparently I don’t.

Can I tell you about my day yesterday?

I woke up at 6:15 am to stupid alarm sounds on my stupid fruit phone (that I still haven’t figured out) that go off about every 5 seconds (by my estimation) so that I could fix the babies breakfast and ready Bug for school. We left on time. YAY us. All seemed well. The car sputtered a bit. It’s OK. We were on time. I let my precious out, gave her a kiss and hug, and Bubby and I were headed to the gas station to get gas, because you know, we had NO CLUE how much gas we had and it’s been about a week. But we were headed that way.

Only we weren’t. We weren’t headed anywhere. We were, well, cluster (insert that F word here) stuck. GREAT! That’s cool. We live on an island. Nothing is far. Jump out (oh, did I mention that I didn’t bother to do anything but brush my teeth before we left the house? Yes, I was lovely.), we would walk to the nearest gas station. But hey, so what if we walked a mile in the WRONG DIRECTION before I realized that I was a moron? It’s cool. ABOUT FACE.

We walked back, you know, that mile and stuff, and headed in the right direction. Bubby was not pleased. Another mile and a half down the road. Eureka, we made it to our “regular” store. You know, that one where everyone knows my name? Yea, that one. Well they knew our names but they still charged us THIRTEEN dollars for a plastic gas can (that by the way didn’t have all of it’s parts…more on that later). I might, or might have not, pitched just a tad bit of a hissy fit in that store and vowed never to return.

OK, I totally did. I pitched a fit. Who does that? Hey, let’s overcharge our regulars when they have an issue? Oh, the Valero on 61st and Seawall does (so if you’re ever in Galveston…DON’T GO THERE…PUBLIC BOYCOTT ANNOUNCEMENT).

I called a friend. Bubby needed to be rescued. She came in on her steed (OK, I think it was a silver car, but still) and saved us. We got gas, headed to the school, and then? Yup, that gas can they sold me for THIRTEEN dollars wasn’t usable. It was missing a big part. You know, the one that holds that silly old nozzle on the can? Yup, that one. So, off to Walmart she goes. New can. A bunch of shuffle this here, shuffle that there, and I have a gallon of gas in my car (the other gallon is still splattered in the parking lot). Just enough to get me to the next gas station (obviously NOT the Valero) where I pumped an overpriced $50 into my tank. YAY! The day was going great and it was only 8:30 am.

We got home, I tried to compose myself for work and meetings but things just never got straightened out for the day. NEVER. I just couldn’t get my head in the game and nothing went right.

When Bug got home, I tried to take the babies to the park and just take a break. That should’ve been nice. What could possibly go wrong there? Well, Bubby had a melt down over something trivial and Bug decided that since we went to the park before homework, that meant she didn’t have to do homework at all. It was a beautiful thing.

We all have bad days, I know. It’s life, they are inevitable. But yesterday? Emoticons weren’t little things I posted on Facebook or in emails and text messages to share my emotions. They were my life. My sad face matched the sad face on my dash, the same one that sits on my bedroom floor. Sad face.

So what’s the point of all of today’s babbling? Don’t run out of gas. That’s just sucktastic, you won’t have a good experience with that, and apparently it will ruin your entire day. But hey, I did get some exercise so there’s that, and today is a new day. Happy face. Make it count and have a great day y’all!

About Christy

Christy Gossett, managing editor of SoFabFood and creator of the healthy living blog, Insanity Is Not An Option, is a WAHM of 6 kids ranging in age from 27 to 8. She enjoys sharing her heart-healthy, low sodium recipes to help others with dietary restrictions enjoy a flavorful life while maintaining a healthy diet.

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  1. Oh, I am so sorry that you had a sucky day. BIG HUG! It’s over. New day!
    Melissa Lawler recently posted…#NaturalProbiotic Twitter PartyMy Profile

  2. If it makes you feel any better this post made me smile, not all the sad face parts but that I’m not alone when I have bad days!! I hope today was MUCH better!
    Kristy recently posted…The Best Place to be is HomeMy Profile

  3. You so need AAA to rescue you when these things happen!! I feel for you, I have my own car stories to tell 🙁
    Patricia Cook recently posted…Cowboy Quiche From The Pioneer Woman CooksMy Profile