I got a new car. New vehicle. A Jeep. I got a jeep for two reasons: The Hub has one and it has over 200K miles on it and is very reliable and my brother is working at a jeep dealership.

I had to get a new vehicle because the old one cost more to repair than it was worth, and that would be just the repairs, not the body damage. Also, the AC was non-functional, and it was so far out of alignment that kept burning through expensive tires. It wasn't safe to drive to Rockville. It probably wasn't safe to drive at all, but I did, literally drive it until the wheels came off. Unluckily, I still had payments.....

If I had not missed my insurance payment and been cancelled at the time I was hit by the deer I might not have had this problem. However, I might have had some other problem. As it was, when I traded the car in it had the donut on the back wheel and the frayed tire that had been taken off the back had to be put on the front when that one blew out on the way to the dealership.

My brother might have told his co-workers in advance that I was insane. They might have expected anything from me: a woman unsteady on her feet, her car all smashed to hell, carrying a boho Mexican fabric bag from the dump as a handbag (it's clean). Still, the entire staff who had gathered outside to watch to see if The Hub and I made it, seemed surprised to hear me cheerfully singing "Coming In On a Wing and a Spare!" as the poor thing trundled onto the parking lot and gave up it's little automotive ghost.

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It's very important to have a good relationship with your auto. One of the things I always try to do is learn its name. This is how you tell what the name of your car is: Look carefully at the VIN number. The VIN number, for those of you who have never had the misfortune to work in the automobile industry, is located on the dashboard on the steering wheel side and is visable from the outside of your car, looking in through the windshield right below the windshield wiper. Usually, even if you hardly have any imagination at all, a name from the letters of the VIN or a combination of the letters and numbers will jump right out at you. Of course, some autos may not mind your affectionate nick-name for them. This is between you and your ride. But you may want to try the VIN thing, especially if you seem to be off on the wrong foot. This Jeep's VIN starts with a digit and then is "J8FF". Jeff. I'd have bought the Jeep anyway, even if he didn't seem to have such an affable, straightforward, reliable name...but it IS icing on the cake.
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I can't tell if the new dose of modafinil is working or not. This is because of a much more serious and deeply rooted problem: I have no idea what a reasonable person expects from oneself in terms of how much work one should be able to do in a day. Most people would say "well, what did you do before?" I worked until I was either physically or psychologically unable work any more. All day, every day. I worked at work and I worked at home. At "leisure" I worked on making sure other people had a good time. I worked on being entertaining and witty. I worked on keeping in shape, on keeping my books in good order, at some side business or another. Sometimes I volunteered, sometimes I took courses, sometimes I did church work.

I drove until my wheels fell off. Now they're off. Now what?
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I think there is a whole, untapped niche on e-Bay. It's "Stuff that isn't available because people are too embarrassed to sell it". I don't mean porn. Heck, anything thats such a sure-fire money maker in this country is downright respectible. Though Theresa told me that she heard that the porn "industry" is being hurt by regular people downloading video of themselves all over the internet. Go figure.

I'm talking about stuff that's beyond the pale here, where only a person as desperate as I am is willing to go. For instance, would you want to know how many people are interested in the wall clock I got from a yard sale which has a print of a bird stuck on to a piece of pine with the bark still attached? Or the very 70's brass elephant?

Don't ask, don't tell
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Some kind of sewage problem must have happened at WAM. The staff seemed to be working on it. I didn't ask about that either.
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Maybe I could do pet sitting. Since I'm not afraid of snakes or rodents or spiders or anything I could study up and sell myself as a "small animal specialist" Of course, I'm very aware of the needs of birds. I wonder how much of a marke there is for that? You can't tell me that there are people lined up to take care of somebody elses tarantula.
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We got a notice from the dog officer saying that someone had complained about Winston. They said that even though he hadn't left the yard he "charged him in an aggressive manner, growling, snarling and showing his teeth." I explained that I remembered the incident in question. Winston got up from our cook-out and wandered toward the road as a man was walking by. He might have been drooling on account of we had just fed him a sausage, but he never barks unless he has to go out, I've only ever heard him growl twice in his life (both times at people who might have been trying to do me harm), and you can't really see his teeth because his jowls are so floppy. I explained that Winston may have been the largest dog the man had ever seen and if he was afraid of dogs, he might have just been frightened by his sheer size. The dog officer said he believed me. Nevertheless I still have to take his dog license and vet records down to the humane society to show that he's all in good order.

The Hub got so mad he was about to go down there and clean the guys clock. He was terrified the dude had set some legal wheels in motion that might lead to Winston being taken away from us. Nevermind the dog: you really don't want to mess with The Hub. Luckily, he calmed down. If anything really bad happens, we can always set lose Kendi, the attack parrot.
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If I can list 10 items a day 5 days a week on e-Bay and each one makes a profit of $10 then that would be $500 a week...enough to live off of......
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There's an auctioneer in Taneytown, an old, spry gentleman who fills in the space between bids by saying "I've got one...what-are-ya-gonna do, do, do? Have I got two, what-are-ya-gonna do?"

Sometimes, lately, I think I'm hearing him in my sleep. Or just in my head when I sit still for a minute. After all, that seems to be the central question. If I sit still for a minute I notice my hands start to twitch, so I always try to keep them busy. But maybe that just makes them twitch more as I'm drifting off to sleep? And there is no amount of work or medication that will answer that question. And no one can keep moving all the time.