I’ve been quite engaged this past week with a lot of load of this.
And now that John’s gone, I’m looking around at the destruction left in the wake of someone preparing to be a geo-bachelor for… an as of yet undetermined amount of time, and all I want to do is take a nap. Is it a good thing that we haven’t had a call for a showing in over three weeks? Because right now it feels like it is, even though all I wanted to do when John left was get in the truck and drive off with him.
How Far Do You Push Your Car?
John got a very late start, even by our standards. He got stuck at the Toyota dealership trying to get the converter-thingie fixed that makes the trailer lights work. The part that was needed is no longer available. Quote: Wow, we haven’t seen one of these in a loooong time. They don’t make that part anymore for ones this old, boy how-die.
The guy was talking about our 1999 Toyota 4Runner like it was a machine relic. The thing’s running great, you know? Pushing 200,000 miles and still holding strong.
We’ll see how it’s faring after this trip, though. And after towing (almost? over?) 1000 pounds of schtuff. If he had to do it all over again, John’s already saying that he would have had the movers come and do a split move: take part of his stuff now and the rest of it (with us) later. Thing is, either way, we’re on the hook for the cost of his move in the short-term: he won’t get reimbursed for anything until we’re all moved. Time will tell when that happens…
How far do you push your car? Is 11-years-old really so … unusual?
Oh — and once they finally got a converter-thingie part jimmy-rigged so John could drive cross-country without getting arrested for not having rear lights on his 1000-pound trailer? They bid him adieu — with no charge, in honor of a military man with a trailer load of stuff fixing to move cross-country, geo-bachelor like. Thank you, Toyota.