For a few days now, I almost live in “Bad Day”, Daniel Powter’s video, minus the point where the cute and geekish guy comes in to rescue, with his red umbrella.

So, please be gentle if I write poorly, sadly, or uninterestingly. I’m as lonely as I could be , I feed on yoghurt and peanuts, I have a paper to run, a new job to hunt down, a life style to change, a hair straightener to buy, and a bunny rabbit to feed. Ah, yeah…and a relationship to save.

So, I have been hearing a lot about the so-called “three years crisis” lately. They say it’s got a psychological and scientifical explanation and all. I guess it’s just like coming back to the car shop, after the first drive test. If you “felt” your car, if you had that unique feeling that it’s meant to take you places, if you even forgot that it’s driving that you did, and not running wild or flying, if you felt all that, you’ll do anything to get the money and buy it. If not…you’ll try another car. And another. But you have to bring it back to the shop and decide.

So, here is me, bringing the car back to the shop. It’s not an usual car, either. Actually, it’s sort of vintage. And me and the car had a wonderful ride together. I was so sure that I was going to buy it. I so loved it’s pace and the way its metallic body communicated with me. I don’t actually know where I went wrong. I got tired in the end. When I was only a few streets away from the vintage car shop, I forced the car’s breaks, I burned its leather interior, I even scratched its side mirror.

So now I’m taking driving lessons again. And I’m sort of not going back to the shop to see the car, until I’m sure I won’t hurt its mechanism, until I change the way I look at it, until I change my life a bit. You see, I never used to drive so carelessly, to take such dangerous turns, to act so recklessly. So now I’m a walker. A bit of a lonely walker, but I guess the pain is okay, as long as it’s helping me grow.

One last thing, though. If you see a ’75 black Lincoln Continental Town Coupe, please think twice before taking it.

It used to belong to me.