Murphy’s Law states that “anything that can go wrong, will – at the worst possible moment.”
Murphy has taken up permanent residence in our house. He’s sadistic, he has a horrific and twisted sense of humor, and the day I walked out of S–D, I invited him to move in with us. I am a Murphy magnet, and it sucks.
When Bobby and I jumped on the Dave Ramsey train, we put a $1000 emergency fund in the bank, and the difference was amazing. For the first time, things that would have previously been catastrophes became inconveniences. Even with the rest of the world falling down around our ears, we still plugged away at the debt snowball because that was one of the few things that we had some control over. And in March, the last credit card was paid off…. ah, freedom!!
But then, on June 6th, I left my job, leaving us with a monthly deficit and just enough in savings to get us through Aug. There was no clear plan – just the knowledge that I detested my job, and the hope that things would work out as Aug drew closer. And Murphy, like any well-trained attack animal, sensed weakness and pounced.
And I said all that to say this… The BMW is deader than dirt. I mean, seriously. Paul the BMW guy called today and said that our two options are 1) to buy a new engine for a whopping $5000; or 2) to buy a rebuilt engine for a mere $3200. Oh, really? Only $3200? Well, let me just write you a check. Oh wait, I almost forgot. We don’t have $3200…. we have just enough savings to get us through Aug. Grrrrr…..
Freakin’ Murphy. I hate that effing shithead.