Heart of a Bugatti, Physically a Corolla

Everyone has their curse in life. For some, it's being so good looking that it hurts; for others, it's being born into an obscenely rich family and never having to worry about anything more tragic than "We ran out of champagne!"

I'm not so lucky as to have #richkidproblems. My curse is my damn car. 

Meet Betsy, the not-so-loveable 2001 Corolla that I drive.

{this isn't a photo of Betsy, it's Google's closest option}

It's the fastest car on the road. Just kidding

The story of how I ended up with Betsy is simple: my previous car, Meredith the 2001 Focus, unceremoniously crapped out on me a week before Christmas in 2010. Through a series of family-related events, I ended up in possession of Betsy. 

Long before Betsy was in my life, when I knew that Mer was on her last legs, I decided that I would save up for a newer car. Nothing super fancy, but something reliable that would last for longer than a few years. 

Well, then I ended up with Betsy. The car that burns more oil than gas. The car that doesn't have power windows. The car whose radio resets itself on a regular basis, erasing any favourite stations that were saved. The car whose radio who (lately) only works when the planets align just so and allow me to listen to CISN without static. 

She's been on her last legs for a little while now, but this week winter hit and she's taken a turn for the worst. She's an automatic, but she stalled five times on the way to work this morning. {Why is it that cars always stall at the worst times, like in an intersection when you're turning left, instead of when you're in a parking lot or a residential street?}

I've been sweet-talking her and cajoling her into not breaking down yet. So far it's been working, but I think her hearing is starting to go. I need to get through this winter, just one more winter, and then she can go to the farm to play with all of the other cars.

Maybe one day I won't have car woes.

What's your 'curse' in life?