And then I went back to donating plasma.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when I have car problems the day I get my paycheck which then proceed to swallow my paycheck nearly whole, leaving behind a few miserable crumbs in their wake?

*headdesk*

I can now attest to the fact that bursting into wracking sobs at the front desk of a garage ...

... is exactly as embarrassing as you think.

I took my car in this morning because it needed an oil change, new brake pads, and possibly new rotors. My $408 paycheck this week should have covered it. I then proceeded over the course of the morning to get three phone calls from the garage:

Phone call #1: "Yes, you do need rotors. Everything all together should cost you $350." (Me: *sigh* "Okay, whatever.")

Phone call #2: "Did you know your inspection's out?" (Me: "I thought ... fine, whatever. Do that, too.")

Phone call #3: "Sorry, but we can't let your car pass inspection because it needs front-end work." (Me: "Are you seri-- Wait, you know what? Just do the rest, because it's all I can fucking afford.")

At which point I went down there, already crying, and was told that the repairs my car needs to pass inspection total nearly four hundred fucking dollars.

I *should* be able to pay for it when I get my financial aid, but at the same time that was the final straw. I've been through so much stress over the past week I started crying right there and then -- oh, and protip to front desk agents: a crying woman who can barely afford to pay her bill as it is won't be able to get your company credit card, so don't bother fucking asking -- and barely made it to my car before I had a breakdown. And then I got home and had some more breakdown. And then I went to the minimart and bought a two-liter of Pepsi and a big bag of Cheetos and ate half the bag and drank half the bottle and had another breakdown.

I just really need a goddamn break for a change, I swear to God.