Buyer’s Remorse

Whenever I find a girlfriend, she's going to like riding in this infinitely better than she would have in my Pontiac. — Whenever I find a girlfriend, she’s going to like riding in this infinitely better than she would have in my Pontiac Grand Prix.

And just like that <insert dramatic hand motion here>, she was gone.

I don’t have the Girlfriend Litmus Test anymore. I am now in total jeopardy of attracting a woman who only wants me for my money—and by my money, I mean the $500 or so I have left in my checking account now. Settle down, ladies!

Because my brain doesn’t work like regular human beings, I used a bad wheel bearing in my inexpensive 2005 Pontiac Grand Prix with only 46,000 miles on it as an excuse to go buy a brand new Jeep Grand Cherokee yesterday. Like a total dick.

If Dave Ramsey finds out I read his excellent personal finance book AND still did what I did yesterday, I could be murdered by nightfall by a Financial Peace University minion. If this ends up being my last post, just assume that’s what happened.

Since acquiring the new Jeep, I’ve put 15 miles on it. During those 15 miles, I never felt any better about my life than I did in my crappy car over the past few months.

My family didn’t reappear at home.

I still got stuck at red lights on my morning commute.

When my soon-to-be ex asked me today whether I bought a new car, I didn’t even feel better after telling her that I now have a nicer Jeep than she does.

Who sits around worrying about personal finances, then goes out and buys a brand new semi-expensive vehicle?

This guy.

Stephanie, the girl who invited me to The Bruno Mars Wedding, is encouraging me to think of it as part of my new beginning. To simply embrace and enjoy this new part of my life and take pleasure in all the good aspects of having a new vehicle while leaving behind the sadness of the old one.

And hell, maybe she’s right.

Maybe I should enjoy, for the first time in my life, having one of the nicer cars on the road. After all, the thing is pretty sweet. The nicest thing I’ve ever had, certainly.

I guess when I think back on the past three or four years of my life—dealing with a job loss, marital turmoil, and now my pending divorce—what’s a little buyer’s remorse compared to that stress?

Piece of freaking cake, that’s what.

Screw it. Steph’s right. I’m just going to try and enjoy it.

After all, now that I’m not driving that Pontiac anymore, I’m going to get more female attention than I know what to do with.

Right?

RIGHT!?!?

It’s foolproof.