Why can't this time be sometime?

The last time I made a good decision getting a car, it was 1989 and I bought a lovely blue Honda Civic 3-door hatch. The losing streak continued with the last car, a 1999 Kia Sportage that wouldn't start when we got a little more than three-quarters of the way to Huntington, West Virginia.

But, with little hiccups here and there, that car wasn't too bad--until it his 60,000 miles. Then it started stalling and not starting. After $1,500 of this, that, and the other thing, it stopped stalling--mostly--but continued to be a crapshoot in starting.

The worst, the time when I just couldn't deal with it any more, was about a month ago when I took my son and his friend to a ballgame in St. Pete. We got there fine. Got back fine. But we stopped at Kane's furniture on the way home for pizza certificates because the Rays' starting pitcher had struck out more than ten. It took nearly 15 minutes for the car to start. Never, I though, would I get another car. Well, functionally never. In the meantime, I'd baby the Sportage until it just died.

Now, a month later, I have a new car, which is something I didn't think we could afford. After dropping more than two grand on the sick cat, it's going to be a little tighter than we want it to be, but that's how it goes.

Sometimes when you think everything is cast in stone and nothing can change, it all does. Why can't this time be sometime?