Fuck you, week of 3/5/11-3/12/11

God this week sucked. I don't know if I've ever been this close to wanting to chew my own face off. Now, I've heard a lot of bloggers talk about writing as being therapeutic. I've never really approached it from that angle. I just thought it was a fun way to act like an ass and maybe get a few people to listen to my inane ramblings. But I think for this post I'm going to try see if blogging about my crotch stain of a week holds any therapeutic value.

Let's rewind to a few weeks ago, when the seed was planted for this week's giant tree of misery. My wife and I had just gotten a sweet little return for our 2010 taxes, and I must say, if you're looking for some nice tax breaks go out and find yourself a spouse. Ah, not so fast there gay people. Only straight folks are entitled to tax rebates.

Anyway, we were pretty happy about our financial situation until later that week when the wife went out to her car...only to find it getting brutally buttfucked by the Jeep that had been parked behind it. I mean this thing was balls deep in her trunk. But in all fairness the Jeep wasn't to blame. Apparently the night before some drunken idiot plowed into said Jeep and rammed it into my wife's car. Shockingly, this guy didn't have car insurance, so the burden was dumped on us and our insurance.

Of course her car was totaled, so we were going to have use the mountain of money that a 97 Subaru Legacy's bluebook value gets you to try and find something else. After some searching online, our journey started in earnest last Saturday when we went to take a look at another Subaru up in northern New Jersey. So, we take a 2 hour drive to the lot to see the Subaru, and from what we could see it would have been perfect. I say "would have been" because those cocksuckers sold the fucking thing that morning and didn't bother giving us a phone call even though they knew it was a 2 hour drive for us. Thanks for nothing, assholes.

Take two in our car search came in the form of a used Toyota. This time we only had to drive an hour into New Jersey. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any less irritating when we found out that once again the car was sold. You've got to be kidding me. Are there any car dealers out there willing to give you a head's up if the sole reason for your visit is no longer there? And if anyone posts a comment that includes the phrase "Fool me once..." I may just have to napalm your house.

Except this. Because it's hilarious.

On top of the need for a new car, the wife and I are also searching for a new place to live. So on Wednesday, we split up so that I could take a look at an apartment in Wilmington, DE and she would look at a car in Newark, DE. In all fairness, I will say that my portion of the search went off pretty much without a hitch. The place was decent and the drive there and home was tolerable enough. My wife, however, spent her evening on an odyssey that would take her through 3 states, one tollbooth fine, and two potential red light camera fines. Let's just say she was less than chipper when she got home.

The good news is that she finally found a car that she wanted to buy. She put down the deposit (which was more than all of what we got from the goddamn insurance company) and we drove down Thursday to pick it up. The only thing was that we had to drive down route 95 during the monsoon that ripped through the northeast yesterday. I mean, I don't know how many of you know what it's like to have a wind gust blow you into an entirely different lane, but it's less exhilarating than it sounds. But it's not terribly surprising in a week when nothing seems to be simple and easy.

Which brings me to today, when I get phone call from our mechanic. We dropped it off with him last night so that he could do a thorough check of the car and make sure we weren't getting screwed before we finalized the deal. As it turns out, he was worried about some oil leaking from the engine, which meant I got to have a lovely back and forth with the dealer until finally just saying fuck it and deciding to buy the car and deal with any problems the car has. It's a used car after all, and I guess some problems come with the territory.

So basically this week was a series of repeated kicks to the nuts. That tax return is just a briefly-lived fond memory. My wife and I have driven more miles in vain than we thought was possible in the period of a week, and I must say that a compact car is not the ideal location for two people who have grown increasingly on edge. Oh, and of course we still have an apartment to find.

But you know what? I'm actually feeling a bit better after writing about all of this. If nothing else, putting my shitty week down on record makes it seem less like the worst week of my life and more like me being a whiny asshole. But hey, sometimes you have to vent. And if you bothered staying with me until this point I commend you for trudging through long past when I would've stopped paying any attention.