Eulogy for my car

I sold my darling red car on Monday and have been forlorn ever since. She was my first (and possibly last) car I've ever had. I've owned her for a year and during that time she took me racing up to my job at the newspaper. She carried me to the beach, to a funeral for a murdered RCMP officer, to court and back to my parents' home pretty much every weekend when I was homesick in my strange new town.

She was my shiniest friend and she was always sitting outside waiting for me to come and play. I miss her and how free I felt speeding down the highway singing at the top of my lungs.

Though I loved her, I sold her because 1) I'm a bad driver, 2) I'm trying to be more environmentally friendly, 3) and because my selling price ($2,500) is almost enough to pay for lazer eye surgery. Or six months rent. Or a year's worth of groceries. Or a plane ticket to a far away hot place. Or an awful lot of yoga classes.

The girl who bought my car promised to love her, take of take her to the beach all the time, so I'm sure my car won't be too heartbroken without me.