Dead Battery

If you've never been to downtown Atlanta, consider yourself lucky. It's a disaster. No, actually, its a complete disaster.
                                                              Photo courtesy Wikipedia
                                                  (I was in too much of a hurry to get out
                                                      of there to take my own picture)

I'll be attending college in downtown Atlanta because I'm a glutton for punishment, apparently. It took a lot for me to decide to finish school right now. In El Reno I know the reputation of every child care facility in town and I personally know most of the people who either own or operate them. I don't know anything here but sales pitches and signs I can see from the road. Most of the childcare facilities here are no longer open, and the choices are slim from the ones that are. Thankfully, we've found one that I feel comfortable with, but its still a difficult decision. Daycare isn't free and obviously I won't be making any direct income going to school. But I have to finish. For me. For my kids. For my grandparents who have enabled me to have already completed 100+ credit hours. So we'll pinch pennies to figure it our for now and by the time we leave Georgia, I'll have my degree in Education and easily be able to get a job I enjoy at our next duty station.

Oh yeah, my car battery died in downtown Atlanta. Dead. Dunzo. Won't even turn over. No jumper cables in the car of course. We won't be awarded any boy scout badges any time soon, I assure you. Luckily, I'm a student so the campus police will help with things like this. Complete with flashing lights zooming up as I'm changing Cianna's diaper in the hatchback of my car. She was sweet, didn't even laugh at us, which was much more than I could've mustered.

Will went back to work Friday. I've gotten pretty used to having him around these last 4 weeks so the first day was kinda lonely, but we're back in the swing of things now. Recruiting hours are long. There are pool functions once a month on Saturdays plus appointments with potential recruits and their parents a lot of evenings. Obviously its not my favorite thing, but I figure out of anybody we're pretty well suited for it. The key is finding things to do and I got lucky and found a church kinda bizzaar, homemade craft, breakfast with Santa thing in a little town about 25 miles from where we live.

This was the good part of the day

Then we got back in the car. And I thought, "hmm, it didn't beep at me, that's weird." And I put the key in the ignition, turned it and once again got the sound of death. Actually it wasn't even a sound. It was the absence of sound. Oh, geez. Here I am in a town I've never been to. Will is at a pool function and not available. And because I can barely remember the names of my children let alone to buy jumper cables, still none of those either. Luckily a guy was walking back to his truck and took pity on me, got his own jumper cables, which most reasonable people keep handy and jumped the car for me. Then he said something like, "I think its time for a new battery." The exact words my Grandpa had said to me on the phone the night before. Note taken. I will listen now, thanks.
I drove immediately to some big name auto parts store, Cianna in one arm, Jameson holding my other hand and found out that a battery for my car is approximately...a lot. $145.00 or so. The nice man installed it for me and I've learned my lesson. Battery dies once, its not always from leaving the radio on without the car being started too long. Sometimes the battery really is bad. Especially if the battery dies twice. It is most definitely bad then.

I spend a lot of time watching Jameson out this window while I'm doing dishes. Now that I'm married I have to cook like a real dinner, like every night. Which amounts to a lot of dishes. Cianna is usually either being worn on my back or crawling around putting unidentified objects in her mouth.

We took an adventure to the park today.
Then to get ice cream at the cutest little ice cream shop.
Where I was approached by a man, asking for directions.
 "I know you don't know me. I swear I'm not a murderer or a mugger I just really need some directions."
Boy did he ever ask the wrong girl.
Not only can I not tell what direction is which around here, or anywhere else for that matter, I'm sure he was terrified I would karate chop him with my hands full of ice cream and kids.

No comments:

Post a Comment