I took my car in for service today. A couple weeks ago when I was moving my car to avoid a street sweeping ticket - the only reason I get in my car these days - I got the “service due” message. This week, the message read “service overdue” so I made the appointment.
It’s wild that a thing once so much a part of my daily life has transformed itself into a minor nuisance. I spend hundreds of dollars each month to maintain it, and for months all I do is move it back and forth across the street. For a while I did load up the trunk with old printers, batteries, and other eWaste but I finally dumped that stuff.
Perhaps some day I’ll commute again?
But seriously, I’m still on the same tank of gas I had in March, before the pandemic struck. I haven’t washed the car because - well, I haven’t needed any gas. Besides that, with the fire it’s getting wrapped in a thickening blanket of ash. It reminds me of how ancient cities eventually disappear under the steady accumulation of dust. My car slowly becoming part of antiquity - an artifact of different times.
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