I Don't Like Cars

It was just a couple of weeks ago that I got my car back from the shop. They rewired both cables coming off of the battery and told me I had to take it to another shop that did transmissions to take care of the oil leak. I planned on taking it in this week since I am taking a few days off work and then I wouldn't have to worry about transportation to and from there.

Well, that was the plan. This morning when I pulled out of the driveway, I saw sparks coming out from under the hood near the battery. I pulled over, but didn't think much of it because there was no smoke and I didn't smell anything. Maybe I was seeing things, but oh, no. Driving home from work today, when I pulled into my driveway, the power blipped (radio flipped off and came back on) and a bunch of smoke started coming out from under the hood. Sighing, I popped it to take a look. The (new) wires are starting to melt and the metal piece that goes over the battery to secure it was sinking into the battery which was starting to melt. I could only think, "You've got to be shitting me."

Now I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. I do know I'd much rather deal with autoimmune diseases than cars.

Cars are the Instruments of Satan

I finally got my vehicle towed to the shop Monday Tuesday morning after my most recent mishap. They told me they would take a look at it later that day and give me a call with a prognosis. It is Thursday morning and I have yet to hear from them. This can't be a good sign.

UPDATE: Tuesday, not Monday. *sigh* It's been a long week.

I also got a call a couple of hours after I posted this. The shop got my vehicle running. They had to rewire the positive and ground cables off the battery. That's not so bad. What's worse is that I asked them to check out the oil leak and they said it's the transmission which is beyond their purview, though they recommended a place. If it's not one thing, it's another.