Mr Gorlitsa and I have been down to one car for several months, and while I have adapted quite well to being stuck in the house a lot, it does place a rather large burden on people who loan us cars and drive me places when we don’t plan very well, so Mr Gorlitsa has been working off-duty jobs to bring in some extra money. This past paycheck was over double his normal take. We should be able to afford another car soon.
We do actually own two cars, but one of them has been sitting in our carport for months. It was a gift from my mom, and it’s a good little car, but it every once in awhile it wouldn’t start. I insisted I wouldn’t drive it, since it seems safer for a cop to be stranded with a dead car than for a pregnant lady. Eventually it stopped starting altogether, and it’s been stationary ever since.
Mr Gorlitsa gets teased at work for not fixing this car, so last night he decided to at least get a new battery for it and see if that was the problem. I thought we had already checked this, but apparently not. The new battery made it so that the lights and radio worked, but the car still didn’t start. So this morning we arranged for a tow truck to take the car to a shop. Mr Gorlitsa was at work, so I handed the key over to the tow truck driver, and went back to scrubbing the bathtub. A few minutes later the doorbell rang again.
The car was running. The driver said it started right up for him. He turned it off and turned it on again. The car works.
It’s filthy, but it works. I’m still not driving it.
