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I'm hanging on the cliff-edge of a magnificent migraine and feel like hitting the ceiling. And all because I was being 'nice'.
The car's been making funny noises for a week and on Tuesday we took it to a garage where my husband's guess of 'alternator and/or water pump' was confirmed.
We had started looking for a replacement car, but I didn't want the stress of having to spend that much money in a rush, so we decided to have it fixed, though I found it a bit strange that the mechanic didn't take any notes, names, phone numbers... First mistake.
When I dropped the car off this morning, the mechanic we spoke to on Tuesday wasn't there yet. Nobody else seemed to know about the booking, what it was for and what price we'd agreed. Since I'd arranged to meet a client in a nice warm coffee shop in town I left the car with them.... Second mistake.
The meeting ran late, so I came back after 3.5 hours, fully expecting my car to be fixed. Instead, it sat high up on a ramp with half its entrails hanging out. The spare parts were on order, expected by 3pm, and the car was promised back in working order by 5pm. When I wondered what I could do with myself in a small town with nowhere to go - except to haunt wifi equipped coffee shops one after the other - the owner very kindly offered to drive me home and pick me up later to get the car. At that point, I was almost placated and agreed... Third mistake.
It's now after 7pm. No car. Nobody at the garage answering the phone. Spoke to the owner just after five when he told me that someone was working on the car, but that his daughter had been taken to hospital and he was now there. Obviously he had more important things on his mind than my car. I get that. And I don't mind. Only problem is, I'm stuck in a village with no transport and a client to see tomorrow morning.
Maybe it's time to get the bike out. My client's office is about 40 miles away and how he will react if I turn up huffing, clad in scruffy lycra with a laptop strapped to my back I really don't want to contemplate. My racing cyclist husband may be able to carry that off, but I certainly can't.
Ah, well. I feel a little better now. Not that anything's changed, but blowing off steam can take the edge off. Still feel stupid, though.. don't think that will go away however much steam I'm blowing off.
The car's been making funny noises for a week and on Tuesday we took it to a garage where my husband's guess of 'alternator and/or water pump' was confirmed.
We had started looking for a replacement car, but I didn't want the stress of having to spend that much money in a rush, so we decided to have it fixed, though I found it a bit strange that the mechanic didn't take any notes, names, phone numbers... First mistake.
When I dropped the car off this morning, the mechanic we spoke to on Tuesday wasn't there yet. Nobody else seemed to know about the booking, what it was for and what price we'd agreed. Since I'd arranged to meet a client in a nice warm coffee shop in town I left the car with them.... Second mistake.
The meeting ran late, so I came back after 3.5 hours, fully expecting my car to be fixed. Instead, it sat high up on a ramp with half its entrails hanging out. The spare parts were on order, expected by 3pm, and the car was promised back in working order by 5pm. When I wondered what I could do with myself in a small town with nowhere to go - except to haunt wifi equipped coffee shops one after the other - the owner very kindly offered to drive me home and pick me up later to get the car. At that point, I was almost placated and agreed... Third mistake.
It's now after 7pm. No car. Nobody at the garage answering the phone. Spoke to the owner just after five when he told me that someone was working on the car, but that his daughter had been taken to hospital and he was now there. Obviously he had more important things on his mind than my car. I get that. And I don't mind. Only problem is, I'm stuck in a village with no transport and a client to see tomorrow morning.
Maybe it's time to get the bike out. My client's office is about 40 miles away and how he will react if I turn up huffing, clad in scruffy lycra with a laptop strapped to my back I really don't want to contemplate. My racing cyclist husband may be able to carry that off, but I certainly can't.
Ah, well. I feel a little better now. Not that anything's changed, but blowing off steam can take the edge off. Still feel stupid, though.. don't think that will go away however much steam I'm blowing off.
