My Car Hates Me


In high school, I wrote an essay for college about my car breaking down at one of the busiest intersections in Charlotte, N.C. while driving home from school.  My first car notoriously broke down and would shake if I went over 35 mph.  I imagined that there was no engine but a hamster on a wheel.  I eventually figured out what was wrong with my car but my essay focused on the trials and tribulations of having such an unpredictable vehicle and having to navigate the newfound freedom of driving with the necessity to be able to solve problems independently.  An exaggeration as I did call my parents many times. My essay was quite dramatic as I was almost hit by a school bus that day.  


I hope I gave the admissions team a laugh.  When I went to college, I sold my car to find one that would survive on the highway up to Chapel Hill.  I thought my persistent car troubles were behind me, I was wrong.  I feel the need to preface that I am not a bad driver, just a girl with bad luck.


This month the Red Bull Mini died while I was driving, my car battery died twice, and a rock shattered my windshield.  The car battery officially kicked the bucket. I bought a new battery at AutoZone, making it my fourth trip in February alone.  


My thought process during these situations involves initial panic with an occasional tear shed, immediately followed by a call to my parents. My education did not prepare me for mundane problems such as car troubles or taxes.  Many people my age can relate to this, it is hard adulting and I am a foreigner on how to handle it well.  My car troubles are the prime example of this.  My mother would say that the prime example is my limited ability to cook for myself, however, my roommates can vouch that I am surviving. 


My high school self was onto something beyond the traditional sense of freedom we associate with a license and the ability to drive as a teenager. My car has adapted me for crisis and the scary notion of fully adulting. While graduation is speeding towards me at a rate that would garner a speeding ticket, the ability to somewhat handle the unexpected problems I will face is something that my cars have taught me.  


My car currently is running without dying which I count as evidence of my ability to somewhat adult.  



My Car Hates Me