On Sacrifice.

My car sounds funny. On a cold morning it growls like the rasping lungs of a lady who’s been smoking for the last forty years and who’s now sitting uncomfortably close to you at the motor reg, and when it’s hot it gasps for air- spluttering and wheezing and begging me to slow down or at least turn the air-con off.

There are two reasons for this- the first is that I don’t take care of Suzie the Suburu anywhere in the ballpark of how I should. Once a year or so I remember to do an oil check, usually when she won’t start for an unrelated issue. Within her aluminium (honestly that’s a guess, not a big cars gal) shell there is a wardrobe, an office, a studio, a hungry-jacks bag and water bottle graveyard, a storage space and a think tank all in one.

The second reason, the one that we’ll be focussing on not only but mainly because it doesn’t make me look or feel as bad (love you Suzie) as the first, is my car is twenty years old, and that I refuse to trade her in for a newer model. “Whyyyyy?”, my friends wail when I politely tell them that upgrading is not on the cards. They tell me that with all the hours I work, I could easily get a car loan. Heck, I could probably save up and get a brand new beep beep Barina in a couple of months!

I won’t get a new car right now- or maybe ever- because I have a house- a morgage to pay. It’s not just that I have a house- a morgage to pay- I also have a serious eating habit to fund. It’s not just that I have a serious eating habit to fund- there are also like six pairs of boots in Kmart that have been screaming my name for weeks. It’s not just the boots, or the phone bill I manage to wrack up from excessive Instagram use every month- I’ve rediscovered my forgotten travelling dream, and yearn to see how life is in every corner of the globe.

So no, I will not be buying a new car anytime soon. I watch leather seats and pink chrome glide past me and Suzie on the expressway and I (figuratively) close my eyes and dream of the next pair of boots I’ll be scoring- a tan suede with a chunky heel. I wonder if I’ll be able to sneak my way onto a rooftop in New York and see the city from above, and I think about my man and my puppy waiting for me in the home that we own together, and I smile. Suzie is all I need, and with that in mind she doesn’t feel like a sacrifice at all.

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