My favorite song is "Hotel California" by the Eagles. The tune has a weird way of popping in and out of my ears from time to time, whenever I hear it, I know it means something good is going to happen. Sometimes I find it serendipitously on the radio, other times it has a way of finding me. Today it was a case of the latter.
HC hit me like a ton of bricks as I was walking in the bank to pay off my car loan. It was playing on some speakers outside near the bank, and I just knew it was a nice omen to go along with the monumental occasion.
After four years of fighting with the meanest loan officer in the world (that means you, Mr. Plyman) I finally own my very own bucket of bolts.
Four years ago it was a nice looking, well running, five-year-old car.
Some things get better with age, like wine or cigars.
My car is not one of those things.
I made that final payment anyway. $588 and change for four wheels in my very own name.
Have you ever had a moment in your life where you feel like it belongs in a movie? The scene, the costumes, the audio, perfect for some kind of screenplay you know the audience would identify with?
Well, that's how I felt when I walked out of that bank. Proud I had suffered through all those damn car payments despite a myriad of other financial foibles. Relieved that for now I have a little bit more room in the 'ol budget to do fun stuff (or more responsibly, to pay off other debts.)
I stepped out of the bank and a band started playing. Literally. It wasn't a high school band, although that would have been really cool if there were a parade in my honor. The band was next door doing a promotion for a barbecue restaurant, but at that moment, they were playing just for me. The guitar, the crashing drums, as I walked towards my little car I felt like the whole world was celebrating my financial freedom from The Bank.
Today was a little triumph for Kate.
And that's fine by me if that's all we get... little triumphs. As long as they come every once in a while, and add to my already pretty cool soundtrack.