I am alone all by myself for the weekend. LD flew early this morning to help our daughter settle down. I meant to go back to sleep after sending him off to the airport. However tired and sleep-needy, I remained awake on bed. Then I decided to go to an auto repair shop to have the car maintained. The maintenance light has been on for a week. It is time for a checkup. By 8:15am, I was at Henry's Auto Repair Shop, waiting and reading WSJ in the room.
Henry's auto shop is located 20 miles away. The owner is a Chinese, who is pretty honest and trustworthy. Except for regular oil change that is normally done locally for the old car, we have been here a couple of times whenever there is an issue. Though low mileage and no other big problem, this old Honda car is aging anyway. There are gas leakings in four areas. Henry suggested getting three places fixed first, and I need to wait another two or three hours ( in reality, it is almost 4 hours already by the time I am writing this). I nodded, as I don't want to come back another time. With a cell phone and the newspaper, I guess it will be fine for the long wait, though I felt a bit tired after a wakeful night and an early rise. Maybe it won't be long before we need to buy another new car.
Sitting and closing my eyes, I tried to meditate. The fan and the TV has been on, with louder mechanic noises coming from windows next to workshop. In meditation, I tried to steep myself in the joy of being solidary, the joy of having the whole weekend to myself. Being alone always means complete freedom and flexibility, and I am so looking forward to it.:))) However this is tainted now with the seemingly endless wait.
As hours drag on, I felt back pain, and my impatience escalated by minutes. I should have chosen to come back another time with LD's company. I made the wrong decision today.
Henry then apologetically told me that the technician was at lunch, which reminded me of my rumbling stomach. I walked out in the scorching sun to search for food in the new neighborhood, but to no avail. I don't know how long I have to wait more. That is the cost of being frugal. A rich person with a new car will never experience this. I cannot help questioning the "virtue" of frugality. The cost, the opportunity cost, hidden and invisible, is sometimes unbelievably high!
|
