The Pile of Stress

It has been over a month since the Mini was rearended in traffic, and I still have no car.  I am close.  I think I found a car I can live with, that will service me well, and that I can afford.

The day of the test drive was more of a stressor than I originally bargained for.  Finding the car online, I had pinged the dealership online to see if I understood the financing program.  Instead of giving me the direct answer I was looking for, I started a dialogue that ended in a request to make an appointment and come talk about the car.  I double checked with my wife to see if she thought that was wise, and we agreed that it couldn’t hurt.  At least I’d get to test drive it.

I was nervous.  I did not want to get in a high-pressure sales situation.  To my surprise, the dealership did not have a heavy hand.  They put a license plate on the car and told me to go drive it – unaccompanied.  I spent a few more minutes walking around it before getting in and taking off to find a highway.  It seemed to drive well, and since I was close to home, I stopped there to get my wife to take a look.

She noticed that the time frame on the “permit” – the slip of paper that they gave me in case I was stopped – was starting to run out.  This was another stick on the stress pile for me.

I headed back to the dealership.  I was under the impression that I couldn’t start a transaction because I didn’t have the check from the insurance company yet reimbursing me for the Mini.  I was ready to walk away.  Then the sales manager slipped me a slow ball.  “Would you like to start the application process to see what the financing would look like?  You could make a small down payment to hold the car.”

I knew that I didn’t have a lot of time; we were headed out of town in about 2 hours.

More sticks on the stress pile.  I wasn’t ready – financially or emotionally – and now I didn’t know what to do.  I hemmed and hawed, I thought out loud about all my reservations, and then I said, “Let me call my wife.”

No answer.  While composing my text to her, I decided that I wasn’t doing well emotionally and mentally and let her know I was coming home.  I told the gentlemen that I “couldn’t make any decisions today.”  I drove away, and although there was a hint of wondering if I had just lost the car, I started to feel my peace returning.

At least I recognized that I don’t make good decisions in those kinds of situaions.  I could feel the tension, and that was a good place to stop for me.

After almost 2 days of thinking about it and discussing the situation with my wife, I felt better.  I think I can buy this car when the check comes, and that should be any day now.  I have a plan, it should work, and I’ve been able to get some perspective on the car. 

This may not have seemed like a hair-raising thriller movie to you, but I was wigging out a little.  Not my idea of a good time.  Something I actually dread.  I worry about getting stuck in a situation that I won’t like, or that might cause problems for others I love.  I have to remind myself – like I did when the Mini got injured – “It’s just a car.”  I’m not responsible for the end of the world, and I don’t think there is anything I can do to hasten it, or to prevent it.  I can leave those problems to Another. 

I’m not changing the name of the blog – even if this new car has an automatic transmission.  It will do the shifting, but I’ll keep shiftin’ to try to stay on top of my emotional regulation, especially when the pile of stress gets heavy.