I picked up my new car yesterday. I am pleased with it. The only thing that would have made it perfect is if it were red… and a convertable… and, well, my old car. I got the Passat. We liked the Camry, but the Passat just drove better for me. Mmmm… Turbo charger.
It turns out the salesman’s hobby is restoring old cars, and his eye lit up when I told him about my old Cabriolet. Turns out a buddy of his has been looking for one to restore. If that doesn’t pan out, one of the guys at my mechanics has his eye on it for a project car. I really don’t want to junk it. (Derned irrational emotional attachments to automobiles I’ve owned.)
Mrs Magill also just got a promotion at work, which means a nice bonus. All the better to buy a house. I guess we’re gonna start looking after all.
In all, it’s been a pretty good week, and it’s only Monday.
(I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m gloating, but I’m in really good spirits, and that doesn’t happen much.)