G'bye Jules, HELLO Vincent

Never before have I felt so poor and so rich in the same moment.

The scene: the food court at the mall. We had just come from signing papers which effectively handed Jules back to her maker (or taker-aparter, as the case now is) and had me named the new owner of the newly named Vincent. The butterflies had fluttered so high inside me I was afraid they would escape through my mouth should I attempt to open it. This made it pretty impossible to even remotely entertain the idea of eating. My love picked up some sushi and we settled in a semi private table towards the back corner, away from the snowflake light and sound display.

I needed to be tucked away, sheltered from the crowds of shoppers all around, not wanting them all to bear witness to my unravelling. I knew it was coming, the emotion so thick it was all I could do to look my love in the face and muster a smile. "Don't you want anything?" he asked gently. "Does frozen yoghurt count as dinner?" I answered.

'Insufficient funds' the debit machine read at the grocery store earlier that evening. Rock bottom hit hard. I thought back over the past week or two and mentally added together my purchases. Stamps, a few Christmas presents here and there, Contacts, Physio... "That's weird" I say, and hand the cashier my poor beat up visa.

Then off to the mechanics we go, to figure out the car 'situation'. Through a series of unfortunate mishaps and miscommunications, not only have I not been able to drive my Jules for the past week, but she is now being forced into early retirement. But, as the universe has decided to smile on me this year, a solution of grand proportions unveiled itself.

A short test drive and a few documents trading hands and POOF! I'm upgraded to a 4 year younger, 6 V stronger feat of German engineering. All thanks to my very own personal Santa Saviour Man, aka Love of my Life.

So there I sit in the metal food court chair and realize I don't even have enough coins left in my purse (or to my name) to purchase the Fruz. Tears of frustration and shame start to well up in my eyes as he takes my trembling hands in his. "Hey", he says softly "we're in this together".

And I accept and believe it. Take a deep breath, tuck the two fives he has layed discreetly on the table into my pocket, and get myself fed. I'll get him back and I've got his back. AND, I'll even let him drive. Every once in awhile.