I was so confident.
The Jeep started making this God-awful noise, a rattle almost. I popped the hood, rolled the ol’ sleeves up and had a look. Seemed to be the belt as far as I could tell. The internet told me this was a fairly simple job.
Sunday I got up and ran down to the auto parts store. Got the belt, and even stopped on the way home and grabbed some donuts and an Almond Joy, because I knew it would be a good day. Got the old belt off…New one on. I closed my eyes and started her up. Same noise. This is how repairs go for me. I try…..I really try to fix things. And it hardly ever works out.
I’m not a “manly” man and have never claimed to be. Usually I’ll joke about how opposite of that I really am. Sometimes I blame my dad because he left when I was 5 and never taught me shit, but it could very well be that it’s just me. Honestly I’m not sure if he’s a “manly” man either, though he appeared to be. He left all his old tools and shit in his little basement room where apparently he built things. He’s had motorcycles, a boat, a motor home, stuff like that. He’s a plumber for Christsakes.
I’m not necessarily ashamed that I can’t do these things, I am who I am. But I do wish I could. It’s a handy thing to be able to do things like fix your car yourself, and cheaper. I wasted $30 and a Sunday morning, and still have to take it in to get fixed, where I’m sure I’ll get raked. The frustrating thing though is trying, and still failing. That confidence popped like a birthday balloon.
The donuts were delicious though.