FIGHTING FOR FOUR WHEELS

I just keep thinking about writing a post even though there are way 
too many other things to do this weekend. Actually I've got to get 
my car working again (I'm making a real meal of an attempted rear 
wheel bearing replacement, going on now for probably over a month 
of weekend disappointments - was sure I'd get it done last Sunday, 
but in spite of a strong inclination to deny the fact, that wheel 
just looks wonky), and then finish all of the work that I was meant 
to finish over the last week because otherwise I won't be able to 
place orders before the Christmas / New Year break, and I learnt 
the hard way last year just how problematic that can be.

Well actually, depressed about my car servicing failures (there is 
a point where even a loner like me would quite like someone 
knowlegable around who could shout a few "hey, no not like that!"s 
at me - I mean I _really_ try to get the instructions right but 
bloody hell do I fail miserably (and sometimes expensively) at 
it)...

Geeze, I'm in denial about this post, I just really want a whinge 
about this failed rear wheel brearing change. OK, there, I've 
changed the title now. You know it's just one of those things where 
you have a lot of problems, but slowly you work through them, make 
sense of them, and get to the end. But at the end you realise it's 
all gone wrong, and even after six days of thinking about it (while 
you should be working, mostly) you still don't understand why, 
except that in order to figure it out you're almost certainly going 
to have to pull a lot of it apart again. At least I can borrow my 
father's ute while all of this is going on.

But this is the problem with owning the Jag as my only car - I mean 
I was up for it, I knew it would be difficult figuring out how to 
do servicing jobs like this with just a Haynes manual (written 
mainly for a slightly different model) and what info I could find 
on the 'net. But somehow it always manages to just go one step 
further than I'm really ready for. Whether it's an impossibly stuck 
(or sheared - oh boy was that a job - broke a whole set of new 
screw extractors and ended up spending hours drilling all the way 
through it, while lying underneath the car) bolt, a replacement 
fuel pump that I tightened the wrong way and ended up breaking 
(then spraying petrol in my face), oh and don't even mention the 
starter motor. How come all of the electic parts always fail 
intermittently, by the way (to be fair, this is the reason I've 
always managed to drive the thing home)? You know, I'm up for a 
challenge, but it's just that "oh shit" moment. Usually "Oh shit, 
did I really break that?", followed by, "oh come on I just paid 
$200 for that thing!", "oh fuck, plus it'll take another two weeks 
to get another one!".

Anyway at worst more like $50 this time, err.. hopefully. 
Unfortunately I do tend to forget many details about things 
inbetween my weekend sessions, though on the other hand it's 
forgetting the emotions of disappointment and being fed up that 
also allows me to go back to it - I remember struggling to imagine 
how I ever would last Sunday, yet I don't feel nearly so repulsed 
now. Still depressed about the whole thing, sure, but willing again 
to bang my head against the brick wall a few more times anyway.

Right, well better get to it then I suppose... I'd better find 
myself a damn good backroad to drive down after all this. Oh hell, 
no I've got to do the other wheel next!...

 - The Free Thinker