The Beast Is Dead

I'm not quite sure what happened.

It's colder than Jack Frost's bottom out there.  Living in the desert I'm not use to this brisk, cold weather and apparently neither is the beast. I started her up, let her warm up a bit, put her into gear and she sputtered, squeaked and then plumes of smoke emitted from beneath her hood. I pulled her into the nearest spot in the parking lot where I live and calmly told the kids to get out of the van quickly.

My beast is dead.

I don't know what I am going to do now.

That was my only way to work, my only way to get the kids to school, the only way to to do anything really.

I'm not sure I'll be able to fix the beast because I'm thinking it's either the engine or the radiator, and I know for a fact a new radiator costs 400 bucks.

I don't have that.

I'm scared here, because instead of freaking out I am rather calm and collected. I keep thinking there is a rose-colored ending to this saga.

I hope so anyway.

I'm not the first single parent to have something like this happen to me, and I'm sure I won't be the last one either.

So I'm just going to sit here and wait.

Wait for someone to call me back who can fix my van, wait for someone to come by and hand me a bucket of hundred dollar bills, wait for some miracle of sorts.

Okay...maybe the bucket of bills is a bit extreme, but there has to be a silver lining at the end of this dark cloud.

Found a ride, now just need to fix my van.

Let's hope that it all works out for me here.