A day in the life of a slightly deranged widow…the car

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So here I am in the rain contemplating  the intricacies of a car engine. I know I’m not useless and I know I can do this but knowing that Andy should have been is enough to make me sob, not prettily like the weeping tragic widows in films, no.  great snotty red nose fugly  crying.  Tears pouring down my face as I fumble to find the catch, FGS I can’t even open the damn bonnet on the car ! 

I’ve left the light on in the car, a tiny silly insignificant little light when I was trying to find my phone that had fallen out of my handbag in the dark last night because I had dropped it on the floor. Everything conspires to make me angry, sad or just totally incompetent these days.

Luckily I have jump leads and another car…Andys. But I have to start this car because otherwise I know I will let her sit and die, slowly rotting away into nothing , yes I’m being melodramatic but that’s how I bloody feel! I’ve googled how to do this, I am a strong independent woman who has to learn how to look after herself  and there is no reason anyone with half a brain can’t jump start a car! Except I don’t feel like I have half a brain, I have less than ten percent of a brain nowadays and that’s mainly concentrated on  pathetic and miserable thoughts . 

OK one bonnet opened…move to the next car… hours ( ok long seconds) pass as I master the enigma of this bonnet catch and push up the metal lid. Now…jump leads. I know how to do this positive to positive and negative to negative. Be careful ! don’t cross! Then start the ‘good’ car and let it trickle into the defunct dead and useless one. 

But by now I’m a complete wreck and I’m sobbing at the unfairness of life and how he could leave me when he knew I don’t ‘do’ cars. At this point my neighbour cautiously comes into the car park and asks …are you ok? And that’s it…I break down completely. I can’t speak…my voice is a few octaves above normal human speech and no coherent words are forming. He calmly tells me it is ok and we can do this and takes over. I’m humiliated by my patheticness and hugely , immensely grateful. The cars are connected with surgeon like precision and life is breathed into my faithless little car. My neighbour unhooks the wires and smiles kindly. I’m still unable to talk and not wishing to subject him to the sight of snot and salty tears smeared on my mottled face ( Oh yes I paint a beautiful pic dont I!) I mumble something that resembles thanks and get into the car as quickly as I can to drive aimlessly in the hope it will recharge the battery. 

Another day has begun… 

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