Goodbye Sheldon….

Also known as workhorse number three.

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In the last 11 years I have owned 9 Renault vehicles. Of those some have been bought for the sheer enjoyment of owning a real drivers car. Others because I have needed cheap(ish) and highly reliable transport due to a daily 106 mile round trip commute.

I’ve loved every one of them, whether cheap and cheerful, or fast and fun,  every single one has left its mark.  None more so than those I have called my ‘workhorses,’ those cars I have run too and from work, and known well for every single mile.

In 2004 I bought Dizzy, who in 2 years 11 months never once faltered in the 70,697 miles I drove her.

Then, in 2007, came Maggie. Maggie gave me a 3 year 3 week stint, and another faultless 65,000+ mile service before she went back to the ‘shelter’ and I picked up Sheldon.

Sheldon is 2 years, 11 months & 1 week old. He’s been a typical male, with a couple of ‘man flu’ issues, like my £800 bill to fix the air conditioning at 6 months old, which was fortunately reduced to £130 after many arguments with Renault. Then there’s the fact that Sheldon was a ‘tweaked by RenaultSport’ version, as opposed to a ‘standard’ version, at every turn he’s cost me a fortune in the usual consumables, even down to tyres which, had I chosen to replace with the same factory fit versions, cost £160 each.

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Aside from all that though, he’s been the best car I’ve owned for a long time. With the previous two I changed them when they genuinely felt ‘worn out,’ like they’d given me enough service and it was time to retire, so some granny could abuse their clutches, and pootle them round town at 12 miles an hour. Sheldon still wants to give me his best. He’s still going at it like he’s had enough speed to last a lifetime and I’m a little sad. I didn’t really want to change my car right now. It’s not the best of times, and I love the damn thing to bits, but the man flu is back.

The MOT is due in 9 days time. The FIRST one. I’ve owned enough cars from new to know that any car should sail through its first MOT. Sadly Sheldon is going to cost me £500+ to do that. Thanks to a £370+ bill just to fix the windscreen wipers, which gave up the ghost last week just as the weather changed, and the rain hit, rendering my car undriveable. It was time for Sheldon to go, even though I didn’t want to change yet, but after 74,965 miles of faithful service a replacement has had, sadly and reluctantly, to be sourced.

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With a tear in my eye at saying goodbye, Workhorse number 4 arrived today with just 6 miles under his/her belt, and no, I don’t have a name yet, that will come when I’ve worked out his/her personality, because all cars have one. Just go and watch Herbie The Love Bug, if you don’t believe me.

Now is the turn of workhorse number 4, he/she who is yet to be named….

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In case I’m an arse again….

I’m posting this so that next time I’m finding things against me, you can all point me in its direction so I remember this….

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You see one year ago today, my diary read something like this.

…it turns out my glimmer of hope really was just some bastard with a torch.
My attempts to move my debt from my credit cards to a loan have failed. After spending two hours in the bank today, have failed.

The bank are currently saying ‘ha ha you can afford these expensive debts, so we’re not going to help you’.

Apparently it is more risky for my bank to give me a loan than it is to let me loose with the two credit cards I already have with them.

Unless of course I tell them I’m in financial difficulty when they are full, and then they’ll fall over backwards to help me. I’m taking preventative steps to stop that from happening and they don’t want me too. They would rather I got into trouble than actually stop me from getting into trouble in the first place.

So my dream of a house of my own is gone. I shall now have to line the pockets of someone else in order to have a place of my own.

One year ago tomorrow, my diary entry went something like this

I spent another two and a half hours in the bank this afternoon.

I had to go through the appeals process against the decision to not change my cards into a loan. I had a less than 10% chance of changing the decision. I knew I had to take it to keep my dreams alive.

There was a forty-five minute dog fight of a phone call between my bank manager and the referrals team. There was a lot of tense waiting and tweeting from me as I sat alone waiting for her to come back.

But.

I got it.

It cost me a little money, but I got it. Time to now move forward. Time to battle the next hurdle and hope it isn’t as hard. Time to see if I can get a mortgage</em>

Then, a mere eight weeks later came this…

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All going to prove that it is alright in the and, and reminding me that as The Boyfriend always says, I really do need to just

“have faith”