So yeah, I was overly affected by the end of Merlin (which made me both happy and very sad); and by the final season of Eureka (which I finished today and it improved my mood in many ways, because even though it was a conclusion, it was a very GOOD conclusion) -- but when it all comes down to it, what's gotten me all twisted up and teary-eyed is my stupid, beloved, damned inanimate gas-guzzling Suburban.
She was the first major purchase I ever made on my own. I bought her used, in 1992, at the ripe old age of 26 (me -- she was five). Despite a low-paying and thankless job, I managed to finance her on my own. I remember the thrill when she was paid off and I went to the DMV to get a clean title. I still have that original document. Over the years she's been faithful, hard-working, often unthanked; she hauled us, and full crews, to Los Angeles and back, to Yosemite and back, to Knoxville and back, to Vegas and back; she was with me through cheap gas (actually paid $.77 a gallon on that Knoxville trip, in OK City, and filled the 36-gallon tank for $20) and on to expensive (when it's run nearly $150 to fill the tank). She's had a few major breakdowns (stranded us in Cordes Junction overnight when her alternator died coming back from Prescott), driven me on icy roads for the first time, through rain, flooded areas, over roads that weren't roads and out into the Arizona wilderness. She's carried complete gaming exhibit setups for conventions, twenty years of Christmas trees, camping gear, river rocks, bricks, lumber, bags of gardening soil, bags of cement, fencing materials, furniture; she's moved friends and would have gladly moved bodies if asked.
She lost her engine once and needed a new one, in around 2002; I paid for her repairs on four over-extended credit cards and then got myself into credit assistance so I could get out of debt. Paid for that and she kept on going. Then another series of major repairs which was paid for with a sensible Credit Union loan and as that loan wound down, I made a decision -- if I was going to keep her forever, as I really wanted to do, I HAD to retire her before there was another major repair that I couldn't afford to take care of. So I parked her, to be used only when a truck was actually needed, and bought my cube for everyday driving.
And then, as happens, life occurred.
Now she needs the coolant coil replaced. I don't remember now if it was this truck or the previous one which had to have this done back in the 80's or early 90's, but at that time the labor required to replace that coil was around $900, then the comparatively negligent cost of the parts, because in order to access the coil, you need to basically remove the entire engine. (This truck design trades this off with the very inexpensive cost of replacing the water tank, which in many other vehicles is a Major Repair.)
She wasn't supposed to have an extra 4,000 miles put on her after retirement; she was supposed to be used to haul things from Home Depot to home, maybe once a month, until that "some day" when I could have her fully restored, inside and out. It was a silly dream, I know it; she's not worth that much. But she is technically a "historical vehicle," by DMV standards (25 years old). Restoring her interior and a new paint job would have made her SPECIAL. I always wanted to paint her burgundy and silver (she's white and silver now, her paint falling to pieces like the rest of her is), get the dents and scrapes and rust pounded out and smoothed, and her silver interior all spiffed up and repaired. She was MINE, and I loved her.
And now... it's stupid to waste the money to keep her running, to keep her insured and licensed, even if the cost of that is pretty negligible. It's stupid to want to do this when there are other things we actually need.
But that's the crux of my depression, and like so many such things, I know it's stupid. But she's my truck, and I keep crying. So that's my "reason," why I haven't posted lately or done much of anything but mope and watch television.