We walk by faith, not by sight.
2 Cor. 5:7
Unlikely event of the week:
“Maybe we’ll get something from your family in Australia.”
“I doubt it.”
But doubting Thomas proved wrong with the appearance of a postcard picturing a long golden stretch of Australian beach and signed “Mom/MIL” in the black Apartment 1F mailbox. Slender odds triumph once more.
Disturbing experience of the week:
A strange day today, what with waking up early and having a 7:30 discussion about Prius negotiating with my still-groggy husband. This was followed by two hours of Cell Biology reading, a shower, a phone call home for advice, and ultimately the debarkation through the snow of the Massachusetts branch of the Ferguson family to Harr Toyota. There we found the white one under discussion Monday had sold, and would we like to order one? Discussion. We would; this would give us the opportunity to get color and features more or less to our liking. The car would be $25,500 — wait, no; we had seen the MSRP, we knew our package cost $24,000. Long minutes of checking, discovering that the higher price belonged to a pricier package, and yes, ours was $24,500. What? What was that $300 for optional amenities? Oh, a First Aid kit, floor mats, and a cargo net? Could we not forgo those and pay closer to the actual MSRP? No, indeed we could not, as the car came packaged from the Japanese factory. We could check other dealers, and they would tell us the same thing: no negotiating, take it or leave it. Exchange of significant looks. Take it, then, but do your best to find us one without those ridiculously expensive extravagances. Fine, he would do his best. Would we give him money now? We would, and plastic exchanged hands. Signatures. Hand-shaking. Excellent; he will call us in 10 days or two weeks to let us know when to expect our car.
All this, of course, condensed. Branko, our sketchy salesman, somehow forgot his pen, his business cards, the price of the car, the colors available and other details. Finding each one took at least ten minutes, often longer. Car salesman tactics to wear us down? But we wore well, did our best, and expect to fork over a barrel-full of money within a month for the vehicle of our dreams. And that, as they say, is that.
Returning home, I did my ECE homework and slept for an hour and a half. I cannot say whether my exhaustion is from an oncoming illness (I hear rumors of a killer, 104° fever-inducing virus going around) or emotional wrung-out-ness. That, at least, is done.