2 pints of pus from her lovely body.

This is all because I’ve been whining about boys lately, I’m sure.
So, I know what's wrong with my car now. Water pump. Want to know how I know?
As I'm driving into work, looking for a mechanic, Buddy begins to overheat. I finally, after about 10 minutes and what feels like a million years, find a place to pull over. And, yup, it's a real overheating, with boiling over and everything. As I'm putting in more fluid, wiping stuff off, and worrying about the giant puddle of coolant forming, a nice man pulls up.
--I'd like to interrupt here with an aside about sexism. Yes, it does suck that people assume that a young woman always needs help, particularly with car matters. But I can't help but be grateful for that same attitude when I do need help. I guess I just wish that I could know that men would stop and help anyone, you know?--
So anyway, nice man gives me a couple tips, including the water pump thing (and that's what's been clonking, too, so at least only one car problem at a time, right?) and tells me to go to a place which, luckily, is on my way into work, so I know exactly where it is and, if necessary (it wasn’t), I could walk.
They're very nice there. Buddy will be done tomorrow, as the part has to be overnighted. I think I'm looking at about $200, which is typical for the biennial (that's twice a year, right?) meltdown.
So my problem now is, How do I get home? Or, conversely, Where do I sleep? I think I'm just going to ask an in-town librarian if I can crash on her couch. This seems to be the simplest solution, and my supervisor didn't seem to have a problem with me showing up in the same clothes two days running. Of course, I’m probably going to lose a few hours and $$, but since whenever anything goes wrong with Buddy I panic and think, $2000!, it’s all part of the price, right?
Now I just have to make sure I crash with someone I can also bum black eyeliner off of.
In January, I’m so going to start looking for a new car. One that makes me feel like less of a fuck-up.