Saturday, November 19, 2011

Separation Anxiety

Fair warning: This has NOTHING to do with writing. At all. Not even a little bit.

You guys, I sold my car. And I'm feeling slightly traumatized.

Yes, it was the most logical thing to do. (The alternative being putting it in storage for anywhere between four and seven months while I'm in Hawaii, Alaska, and Europe, and then having to replace the battery and god-knows-what-other problems that cropped up from long months of sitting around. Cars need to be driven like dogs need to be walked.)

Yes, I knew in advance that I was going to sell it this weekend. I fly out for Hawaii on Monday, so this was really the last possible minute.

Yes, everything went perfectly and the first buyer to test drive it handed me an envelope of cash and drove off with my Baby. (Yes, I named my car Baby. She's so cute and tiny! Don't judge me.)

It wasn't until the hand-off was complete that I realized I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye.

I know, I know, it's an inanimate object. But it was my inanimate object for eight and a half years! She was the first car I ever bought new, slapped down my own money for and made every payment. That car has 101,000 miles on it and I put on every single one. She took me to every state (except Hawaii and Vermont), and half the provinces of Canada. She fit my random crap beautifully on multiple cross-country moves - a subcompact with a massive trunk compartment... heaven. She was reliable and had the smoothest, sweetest transmission of any of the cars I test drove lo, these many years ago. And now she's gone. Poof. Ain't my car no more.

I know the new owner will be happy with the car and treat her well (and, yes, she's inanimate, so she won't really be conscious of a difference... won't even know I'm not there anymore) and yes, I've been planning on trading her in for a shiny new model for the last few months... once I'm done with my current airborne gallivanting. (And I've felt guilty every time I've uttered the words "new car" while driving her, as if I am betraying her trust by even mentioning a new automobile.)

Okay, inanimate objects only have as much personality as we give them - but life is more fun when we assign human personalities to our possessions, so is it any surprise we get attached?

This was probably the one object I owned to which I had grown the most attached and now she ain't mine anymore. It'll take a bit of time to sever those ties.

Farewell, Baby. I hope you have a good (mechanical) life.

And could you guys please tell me I'm not the only one who gets attached to Things like this? What have you had the hardest time selling?


Kali said...

Ooooh, saying goodbye to cars is never easy.

Leah Braemel said...

No, you're not the only one attached to their car. My hubby was darned near sick when my son crashed his Honda last year. I don't know if he's over it yet as he still mentions her fondly.

Vivi Andrews said...

Oh God, Leah, an accident would be much worse. At least I let her go voluntarily. My condolences to your husband.