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I don’t know if you’ve been following, but recently I had more than my fair share of fun with a road trip.

But guys, guys. It gets better. I know, I know, you’re probably wondering how the one girl, two cities, three cars road trip story could possibly get any more ridiculous, but it has.

My Father decided to drive down this weekend with his car to visit me and bring down some things I’d left behind.

He made it about halfway before the software in the car decided it wasn’t having any of this Me moving to a new city business and stopped working.

Software. Software. When does software ever stop working on a car? Honestly!

Anyway, the car started pushing out black smoke because the fuel thing wasn’t regulating itself properly or something. (My knowledge of cars? They have wheels).

So he got here yesterday and asked me to find a mechanic. I feel like I should be getting a commission from these guys.

It’s now a new chapter to my life.

One Girl. Two Cities. Four Cars. It’s like a terrible chickflick tag line. The movie will be called There’s No Way This Actually Happens, Until It Does.

The universe is clearly against me. I’d be listening to it if I wasn’t laughing so hard.

Four cars. Honestly.

Here’s the kicker, my Aunt back in England said she got in her car the other day and it wouldn’t start. Is this a meltdown of every car my family owns?

I should call my sister and find out…