Metaphorically Speaking...

I just got rid of the car I bought three years ago. Someone who knows quite a bit about cars talked me into getting a Saab. I was pretty happy about that Saab for a while--Smooth ride, looked cool, and it had potential to take me places I had never been. For a car, it had some personality and in the beginning it seemed to suit me well.

But, as anyone knows, those foreign cars can be more trouble than they're worth. In the beginning, the Saab made me smile and in the end, the Saab made me sob. Even with all the bells and whistles of that car...in time, it caused me a lot of agony. If it wasn't the tire going flat, it was the brakes squeeking, or the air conditioning going out, or the battery dying. Towards the end, it seemed as though it was in the shop all the time. And every time it came out of the shop from repairing one problem, it was back in again for something else. I was constantly trying to "fix" it. To the point that I became skeptical that the mechanics were rigging something to fail so they could cheat me out of more money and cause me more frustration. It wasn't even two weeks after I got the squeeking brakes fixed, that they started to squeek again. Several times I even knew something was wrong with the car, but just chose to ignore it because I didn't want to deal with it. I was in denial.

Even though deep down I knew it all along, it wasn't until recently that I could full heartedly admit that the car is just a piece of shit. I never gave that Saab a name, but if I were to name it today, I would've called it some variation of a four letter word. I curse the name of the person who talked me into getting that car in the first place. In hindsight, I should've junked the thing long ago. The time and energy I spent on that car far exceeded the attention it was worthy of receiving. But, I finally freed myself of it. I sold it to someone who probably doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. When she asked me why I was selling, I wanted to tell her it was because the maintenance on it was too much hassle for what I was really getting out of it. But the answer I gave her was still very much the truth. "I want to get something bigger. This car is too small for what I need."

I sincerely hope the new owner doesn't have the same problems with the car that I did. But, she decided to buy it and now it's her problem, not mine. I'm just glad she's the one driving it until it dies-Not me.