Mechanical woes
I'm sad. I mean that. There's so much going on around me and I sometimes feel stuck in the mud. Or quicksand. Tuesday didn't help much. I was headed to work and the Chevrolet died. I think it's the fuel pump. I'm almost sure it's the fuel pump and the new one showed up last night about four. I will get serious about changing it tomorrow.
I found out today though that the old trick of hitting it with a hammer on the outside of the tank isn't going to get mine going. I was hoping it would just so I could get it into the garage.
No such luck for yours truly.
I swear, if I had the money, I'd pay someone to do this job for me. But fortunately there's some sort of flat spot in front of the house where I can try to drop the fuel tank. I'll figure out something regardless. I have to. I can't afford to drive Chevron at $3 a gallon.
The timing sucks, but what doesn't right now? And it's not limited to just the car. The truck needs headlights, which I have. My tractor needs a starter. The one on the tractor I was given is shot. I was hoping to rob it for my tractor. As soon as I'm done here, it's getting ordered. I gotta get that tractor running ASAP.
I mentioned I'm sad. I'm also hurt physically and it's limiting my ability to do crap. I have a ton of crap to do, but I'm only good until the ibuprofen wears off. That started happening about an hour ago.
I should take more. I will tomorrow so I can function.
It would be easy I think to start to feel sorry for myself; to throw a serious pity party, or to do something stupid like trying to find someone to date. That would be a horrible idea right now. I can just see some poor woman showing up here to see me and having the ex tell her all the horrible things I've done in the past. Or even just trying to explain why she's here but "there's nothing going on between us."
If I was a woman, my reaction would be this:
"Yeah, right."
I have too much to do though. Feeling sorry for myself isn't going to fix, and you can fill in the blank. Aside from fixing, there are volunteer trees to murder. Among the many things I can't do right, apparently taking care of my yard is something I'm doing a poor job at. Given how bad my back hurt last summer, I thought things looked pretty good. Apparently not, though, so I've been pushing myself to do what I can when I can outside as well.
God is good to me. I know He's here in the middle of this. I know I can't understand why my life wound up like this, save that I reaped what I sowed and that He told me I couldn't escape the consequences of my choices. A good pity party killer is the realization that I brought all this upon myself.
Parts plus time equals things working like they should. I'll start on the car tomorrow. The starter next Saturday unless it gets here before then. The tractor running will help me a lot with the back 40, and I'm so grateful to have the donor tractor to put mine back to where it was before I wrecked it.
At least there are things to look forward to.
That's all for a Saturday from the farm. Hope things are well for y'all. They'll get better here. It's just gonna take time.
I found out today though that the old trick of hitting it with a hammer on the outside of the tank isn't going to get mine going. I was hoping it would just so I could get it into the garage.
No such luck for yours truly.
I swear, if I had the money, I'd pay someone to do this job for me. But fortunately there's some sort of flat spot in front of the house where I can try to drop the fuel tank. I'll figure out something regardless. I have to. I can't afford to drive Chevron at $3 a gallon.
The timing sucks, but what doesn't right now? And it's not limited to just the car. The truck needs headlights, which I have. My tractor needs a starter. The one on the tractor I was given is shot. I was hoping to rob it for my tractor. As soon as I'm done here, it's getting ordered. I gotta get that tractor running ASAP.
I mentioned I'm sad. I'm also hurt physically and it's limiting my ability to do crap. I have a ton of crap to do, but I'm only good until the ibuprofen wears off. That started happening about an hour ago.
I should take more. I will tomorrow so I can function.
It would be easy I think to start to feel sorry for myself; to throw a serious pity party, or to do something stupid like trying to find someone to date. That would be a horrible idea right now. I can just see some poor woman showing up here to see me and having the ex tell her all the horrible things I've done in the past. Or even just trying to explain why she's here but "there's nothing going on between us."
If I was a woman, my reaction would be this:
"Yeah, right."
I have too much to do though. Feeling sorry for myself isn't going to fix, and you can fill in the blank. Aside from fixing, there are volunteer trees to murder. Among the many things I can't do right, apparently taking care of my yard is something I'm doing a poor job at. Given how bad my back hurt last summer, I thought things looked pretty good. Apparently not, though, so I've been pushing myself to do what I can when I can outside as well.
God is good to me. I know He's here in the middle of this. I know I can't understand why my life wound up like this, save that I reaped what I sowed and that He told me I couldn't escape the consequences of my choices. A good pity party killer is the realization that I brought all this upon myself.
Parts plus time equals things working like they should. I'll start on the car tomorrow. The starter next Saturday unless it gets here before then. The tractor running will help me a lot with the back 40, and I'm so grateful to have the donor tractor to put mine back to where it was before I wrecked it.
At least there are things to look forward to.
That's all for a Saturday from the farm. Hope things are well for y'all. They'll get better here. It's just gonna take time.
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