My Secret Automobile

Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake, buying a car. My guru advised against it, my friends would probably judge me for it if I wasn’t so good at hiding the evidence (i.e. parking a long way away from the tea-house and pretending I took the bus), and my inner soul karma meter sometimes feels like it’s searing my soul with accumulated guilt energy.

But it gets me around, especially when I feel the call of inspiration and I must rush out to greet it. Like the other day when I felt a subtle whisper: go to the park, there’s some totally cool song vibes.

There were some cool song vibes. But after that, I had to drive all the way to an aircon regas garage in Bendigo. I go there for all car things because I know no one will recognise me there, and Bendigo is famous for having down-to-Earth people who don’t so much believe in things like spiritual realms and harmonic universal balance energy hot spots. I don’t even think there’s a single guru in the entire place. Perfect for finding really decent, ordinary mechanical folks. I will admit that I don’t relate to mechanics purely on the basis of us having taken different paths in life, but I appreciate them not having any connection to my friends and acquaintances, and thus not being able to tell them that I have a car, and I get really specific car repairs like having my air conditioning gas refilled. It’s bad enough that Tanya spied on me through the window and then told the rest of the housemates, even though I can now park outside the building instead of two streets away.

Wow, while I’m on the subject though, aren’t one-litre engines just the worst? The old ones, anyway. All the garages offering car servicing in Leichhardt agree, I need to upgrade to something with a bit more horsepower.

Uh…I mean, I try to keep this vehicle in balance with the universe as much as I can. I should…go plant a tree. Yep. I’ll do that.

Deirdre