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3.22.2008

Plans Change

Sometimes in life I've learned that no matter how much you want something, it's just not the time for it. It doesn't matter what you believe in, sometimes your higher up kicks your ass in the opposite direction. I personally believe in God, and He's given me enough clues that now is not the time for my Honda Element...that I love so much...that I REALLY REALLY REALLY want. And no, this will not be a diatribe on religion.
First, came the experience with CarMax yesterday. I went solely to test drive one I knew they had on their lot. While I was there, I figured I'd get my car appraised, and see what kind of financing I could get on my own. See my last car is financed with a co-signer, and I don't believe much in credit, so my car is really the only thing that I have debt on. No credit cards, no loans (as of a month ago, but that was a student loan, so it doesn't REALLY count), no medical bills...so I thought. But we'll get to that in a moment. So I get my car appraised, and they want to give me a little less than I think I could get on the outside, but whatever, because I'm not buying through CarMax. I'll take that as subtle sign number one (in hindsight). Anyway, I drive the dirty Element they had on the lot that they wanted to sell for 4K more than the one that I LOVE, but whatever, same feel, same drive. It was awesome. Roomy, comfortable. I guess you could say that the drive cancelled out the subtle sign of why I shouldn't get a car right now. Anyway, we went in to run my credit for the financing, and after the usual bull shit, in came the results. The only place that would finance me wanted to make it at 15.27% interest rate. Eat my ass. I am currently paying HALF that in interest, so why on freaking earth would I fall for it. What made me REALLY angry about that was that where I am currently financed through didn't offer anything. So I left CarMax and called Wells Fargo and asked them WTF? You don't want to take my money from me for an additional 4 years? No, no they do not. "Sorry, your credit isn't high enough to qualify to speak to a loan officer." So I called the local branch and asked to speak to a loan officer. Ain't no long distance bouncer gonna get rid of me that easy. Turns out, my credit score is shit. And why is that you ask? Because I apparently have about 11 lines of BAD MEDICAL CREDIT on my credit report. WTF? Seriously? How on earth did that happen? From ME? The person who doesn't go to the doctor unless either I am forced to by paramedics or unless something begins to smell slightly of almonds. The person who with the few medical bills I DID have from the time that I was forced to go by paramedics (forced is sort of strong word since I was unconscious, but hey), those have been paid. So what am I left with? Not sure, but I have a few theories. It's entirely possible that I have medical bills left from The Smoodge's delivery that I have no received. But you know who would be receiving them? The Sperm Donor. Because he is who was the policy holder. And it would not surprise me if those bills were quickly being put in a round file for quick delivery to the dumpster. The other option is that The Smoodge's medical bills are affecting my credit, but I've been paying on those, and they shouldn't be showing on my credit. Either way I need to find out what's going on and take some serious action. So if you are keeping track, sign number two is credit. So I go home, thoroughly exhausted by the day's ordeal, and head to bed. I wake up this morning, open the door to my bedroom, only to walk upon this:

This is what that fucking cat did to the carpet. You can't see it, but there is about an inch of floor that is no longer carpeted. You know where that carpet is? Yup, you got it. Haphazardly scattered around the area that it used to be one piece of carpet. Because the damn cat is crazy. I personally think that at this point he wants to live in a dumpster. And that is where he is headed should this kind of crap happens again. But I digress. After hurling frantic obscenities towards the culprit, scraping together my poor scraps of carpet and throwing them away, I phoned the vet. Because the only way to truly punish that little shit heel is to cut his damn balls off. And since the vet told me that the nut chopping won't stop his apparently playful method of clawing every inch of my apartment to shreds suited for a RAT CAGE, his claws will go too. I know I know, it's awful and mean and did you know that declawing is the equivalent of severing your fingers at the first knuckle? Yes, yes I'm fully aware, and I will take nothing but pleasure in getting to watch him scamper around in first knuck-less play. And let that be a warning to you all. If you intend on coming over to my apartment and ripping up the furniture and flooring, I will sever your fingers at the knuckle. Don't say you weren't warned. ANYWAY, with the neutering and the declawing, it's going to set me back about $450. Sign number 3. Because spending $450 really takes a chunk out of the down payment for the car that I love. To sum up, God doesn't want me buying a car right now.
On a lighter note, tomorrow is Easter. Technically, today is Easter. I was going to go to the sunrise service at my church, but it's out in BFE, and besides, I hate driving back into that town. Especially when the fuzz get such pleasure out of following me around while I'm there. And why should I allow them that joy? So instead, The Smoodge and I may go see Horton Hears a Who, and yes J, we'll see the $1 extra version if available, and possibly go get a flat panel TV. Because at the very least, if I don't get The Car That I Love, then I should at least get to hang something cool on my wall. :)

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