The Mousemobile is sick. For an unknown reason, it is quite difficult to get her to start when cold, yet once warmed up, she starts up right away (drive for an hour, park for half an hour, she starts like a dream); we disassebmled the carburator and right now we're charging the battery, but neither of these things seems to be the cause. We are working under a tarp in the driveway because our garage is unusable. It is in such a sorry state because of the Camero. For three years, my dad's beloved '86 IROC-Z has been up on blocks while he replaces the engine. I do not have any real objections to the new engine (even though it cost about $2,000 more than I had to borrow in the form of student loans), but I do object to the three fucking years. My mom has to park her car in the driveway year round, even in Winter's bitter cold; presently, we are working under a leaky tarp instead of in the dry garage; and he hasn't touched the Camero since September. Motherfucker.

I don't like working on the Mousemobile, but I acknowledge that she is a seventeen year-old p.o.s. and thus, these sorts of things are to be expected. But to have to work on my car in the rain under a tarp, all because my dad spent my college money on an engine he's too lazy to even install, well, I have tried and failed to find the words to adequately describe my anger and indignation.