Mr. G has a big, shiny, new-ish Ford truck. It's name is appropriately Harrison [the Ford]. Harrison has been a good truck to us. He drove us through the heat, the wind, the rain, and oh the snow. He has kept us safe and sound, and he only has 64,000 miles on him. He is a baby (and he puts Caroline the Corolla's milage to shame!) Yes, Harrison has been a good truck to us. Until yesterday that is.
Mr. G and I were just starting to feel financially comfortable again after the expensive holiday season. Mr. G bought some fancy new Oakley's. I had just called a local shop and asked if they could special order me some new Frye Riding Boots. I was about to drive down to Tilton and get myself a great new purple leather Coach bag. My favorite Juicy sweat pants have a hole in the crotch the size of Texas that I finally intended on replacing with a new pair this weekend. And it doesn't stop there. We just picked out a new bedroom set AND a new piece of furniture for the living room. January was going to be a month all about us.
And then Harrison got word of all of our big plans and he said "fuck you." He just stopped working. All of our January dreams out the window. All of our savings for the fun shopping I had been planning are going into fixing Harrison.
So I said goodbye to the boots and the bag and the sweatpants. I hope to unite with them next month. I am still hoping to find some cheap furniture for the living room and bedroom this weekend, however, due to Harrison's poor attitude, I am banned from Pottery Barn and now must start the search over at Big Lots.
I wish it was yard sale season....
xo,
Grams
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