Emotional Wreck

I admit it...I am an emotional wreck. On one hand, workouts are great, I'm doing more and more with each run I do and couldn't be happier about that. The Bergernator has been in Argentina on vacation and I've surprisingly done well without someone forcing me to workout until the verge of passing out--now I just do it on my own!

The diet is going....eh.....just okay. I did just get home from a trip to Baskin Robbins, but a girl has to have a Baskin Robbins (kids scoop mind you!) at some points during a summer heat wave! It was chocolate and it was bliss, and if I really ever needed ice cream, today was the day.

I don't know if I can talk about this but I'll try. Here goes. Here's the reason I'm an emotional mess:

I got rid of my car.
I got rid of a hooptie...but she was my hooptie. She was a 12-year old 4Runner with 180,000 miles, superglue holding on certain parts, duct tape holding together other parts. The antenna snapped off long ago in a car wash, the clock wouldn't work if the A/C was on, and the interior was covered in Golden Retriever fur and snot (I always thought the snot looked like love notes my dog had written to me on the window, but whatever).

And now she's gone. I didn't plan on getting rid of her...the Cash 4 Clunkers deal loomed over our heads and there was a beautiful Highlander calling our names on the lot. I was swept up in lust and passion and next thing I know, we're signing and shaking hands and taking this picture:
But then reality set in and someone told me I had to clean out my car and say goodbye.
What?! Say goodbye? Like for good???
"Yes," replied our sales guy. "We're going to drill a hole through the engine and then another through the transmission and then it's going to be demolished in a junkyard."

They were going to kill her.

It was then that I started to bawl. Scott and the sales guy were looking at me as if I'd lost my mind. As I went through the nooks and crannies of my beautiful baby, memories flooded back. This car had been with me through so much of my life and she felt like a friend that I knew I'd never see again. I felt like such a traitor! I apologized, kissed the steering wheel and thanked her for always carrying me safely, even when I may not have been the world's best driver.
Scott, being the wonderful guy he is, took me to our favorite Mexican food joint to cheer me up and I cried there. Then I called my mom and she probably thought something was terribly wrong when she heard me blubbering on the other end of the line. I cried to her. I cried in the shower the next morning. And I'm crying now as I write this. Don't get me wrong, I feel so lucky and grateful to have a beautiful (and safe!) new car to hold all the new memories in my life (and boy does it smell good inside!). It's still hard to say goodbye though.

So that explains the Baskin Robbins. I'm sorry I broke down but you can understand, right?