I have the worst luck with cars, I mean the really worst luck. Each and every one I get seems to break down right after I get it paid off.  What do you do when your car breaks down and you still have to go to work the next day?

Are you lucky enough to have a spare car or a roommate, husband, friend or family member who can give you a lift? Some people might take a taxi to work when their car breaks down, or an Uber. They might even be lucky enough to hitch a carpool ride or rent a car from Enterprise. Well I don't have any of those things, so I this morning, I had to be resourceful and find an alternative to get to work.

I decided to take my bike to work. Let's just say that's one idea I never be doing again in the near future (unless it's an absolute emergency)!

Here's what happened to my car last night at exactly 9:47pm: On the way home from the annual Junior League of Yakima dinner, I picked up my daughter, Willow, from the babysitter. She was in her car seat, happily playing Minecraft on her hand-held game console phone. We were just 8 blocks away from reaching our house, when all of a sudden, my car got so hot that it abruptly shut off in the middle of South 16th Ave and West Washington Ave. No warning, nada. My car gave up working and said "Peace, I quit. Byeeeeee!"

I couldn't believe it. My car literally just had a temper tantrum in the streets! (Pun not intended.) Willow immediately sensed something was wrong, probably because she heard me in the front seat yelling, "It's going to be okay! It's going to be okay! Don't panic. Where's the panic button? Omigod, I can't find the panic button! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!"

"Mommy, I'm scared!" Willow yelled.

"Baby, I don't want you to be scared. That's Mommy's job to be scared. And I'm not scared anymore!" I lied. After I said the words, though, it somehow calmed me down, so I guess I wasn't lying anymore.

Still sitting in the front seat, I decided to stop being a chicken and do something to figure out how to fix my car.

I channeled my inner "Mike & The Mechanic", popped the hood, hopped out of the car and lifted the lid to see what in the heck was going on inside of there. From the initial inspection, everything looked normal. There was no hissing noises or smoke coming from the radiator. I thought it might perhaps be out of transmission fluid. (Can you tell I have no idea about fixing cars?)

I grabbed my cell phone and started watching a video "How to put transmission oil in your car", when a friendly man stopped by to help me push my car out of the road (I'll refer to him as "Friendly Fred"). I had noticed that my car had broken down right in front of Ding Ho Restaurant (which reminds me that I need to call them and say a big THANK YOU for not towing my car last night). Friendly Fred had told me to knock on the doors of the restaurant and ask the owner if he would let me keep my car in their parking lot overnight without towing it. The gracious owners of Ding Ho gave me their blessing to keep my car there, just as long as I promised to have it off the property in the morning.

I went back to my trunk and took out a jug of car oil and a funnel. I poured in the small remains of oil into the engine oil hole. I also grabbed a container of anti-freeze that I had recently filled with water and poured all of the water into the coolant reservoir.

Willow and I sat in the car for a few more minutes; she went back to playing Minecraft and I decided to give the ignition another try. The car attempted to start up again, so that was a good sign, but it still too hot. It obviously didn't have enough chutzpah to get its sh*t together and get back to normal. I realized that my car was going to have to sit there (and pout) for several hours while it tried to cool down and absorb some of water and engine oil to lubricate its inwards.

I texted a friend to see if she could come pick us up and give us a ride home. After five minutes had passed and no response from her. It was getting pretty late and it was already way past Willow's bedtime, so I decided to just suck it up and call a cab. Fortunately, I had $20 in cash in my wallet. The taxi driver took the long way home (of course he did) and the 8 block trek to my house somehow ended up costing me $10 whole dollars, well actually $12 whole dollars because I gave him a tip out of courtesy.

I tossed and turned in my sleep all night trying to figure out how I could get to work without taking any more of those damned expensive taxis until my car gets fixed. I didn't want to spend another $10-$20 dollars just so that I could get to work every day! Ain't nobody got time money for that!

I woke up this morning and the answer had come to me: I should RIDE MY NEW BIKE to work!

That was a terrible idea. The bike ride was all uphill, so it took me forty-five minutes just to get 32 blocks up the road. I huffed, puffed and heave-ho'd my way to work. By the time I finally rolled into my work parking lot, my wig was twisted under the helmet, my face had little sweat beads that looked like they were forming a new colony, and the back of my legs were so sore, I could barely walk up the stairs.

The morals of this story: 1) there's too many steep hills in the city to ride your bike to work; 2) I'm severely out of shape; 3) Taxis cost too [BLEEPING] much; and 4) the next time my car decides to break down, I'm taking the flipping BUS!

This ends my long-winded rant-PUN INTENDED!