Today I vowed to get rid of my old PT Cruiser for good. It's been almost a month now since it died, and every time I pull my new car into the driveway, it's a nagging reminder that I need to do something about this.
I made a call to a junkyard. It went surprisingly well.
"Yes! We'll be over in 20 minutes," they said.
Things never go that easily. As some of you may know, I live on a wicked hill. The driveway slopes, too, and while it doesn't look that bad from street view it's deceptively steep. This is a problem when your old car's transmission is shot.
So we pushed. And pushed. Shifting the car in neutral helped, but there's an incline right where my driveway meets the road, and we couldn't get it over that hump. We needed one more person, and so one of my roommates came out to give us the extra push we needed.
Done. The car is gone. Two thoughts go through my mind.
1) I'm happy this is over.
2) I can't believe I couldn't push this car out of the driveway. I really need to hit the gym.
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