I frikkin’ hate my car. I drove over to the gas-station an hour ago and let the car run as I went in. When I came out and opened the door, a wall of smoke came rushing out at me. I turned it off and jumped out, terrified that it had actually caught fire (it hadn’t!). I called Tony (who’s at work) and we agreed that I’d drive it over to a nearby parking-lot, and we’ll figure out what to do when he comes home. Then I walked home, which took me 25 minutes and was frikkin’ cold as I hadn’t exactly dressed to be outside.

I’m not sure what the problem is, but it seems to be an oil-leak from the same place it leaked the last time. Hopefully that means it’s the garage who fixed it that has to take the bill instead of me. I seriously can’t afford another big repair right now..

I’m also not sure what to do about it. I don’t want to drive around in a car like that, especially not after Adrian arrives, but I’ll lose a shitload of money if I sell it in it’s current state. Gah.. I’ll figure something out..