In the end I was without my car for much longer than I blogged about it. I just got too bored with the situation and became quite adept at using public transport and walking everywhere. However, the mechanic finished his final piece of work last week - fitting a new exhaust - and once I'd paid my car tax I was off again. I've managed to get out and about and enjoy the car again, and was feeling quite pleased with the situation.
However, today I was feeling very grumpy for reasons I won't go into, but which involved contacting a counsellor so I can start to deal with
The sound got worse and worse and I had to drive really slowly. Who'd have thought a loose exhaust could make so much noise? When I got there I took another look and realised that in addition one of my back tyres was completely flat. "F*ck it, f*ck it, f*ck it," I thought as I speed-dialled Bert's number. We agreed that I would need to phone the emergency repair people, and of course once I'd done that I had to stay with the car. No gym, just a packet of crisps and me lying on the back seat in despair.
Luckily they weren't too long. There was a slightly bizarre moment when the counsellor phoned me just as the repair man was asking me to move my car. "Oh yes," I said to her in a manic way, "Thanks for returning my call! I'm just in the middle of a breakdown - can I call you back?"
She seemed keen to take me on.