Like I Was Saying…
It was weird day.
I got some marching orders yesterday. We need some business coming in like yesterday.
So today I carried out my marching orders.
We’re talking old school face to face selling here, shaking hands, asking questions, and dropping off business cards. Maybe I need to revisit o’l Zig Ziegler. Either that or carry a box filled with snake oil. I hear it still sells.
My goal was to hit ten places, but Only hit six.
I drive a standard 2005 Toyota Corolla. It’s not a bad little car and I love driving a manual transmission. But about a week ago, shifting between gears started feeling a little off. Something was up.
Driving it around town, it was worse today. Damn.
So in the middle of my stops I decided to take it to my mechanic, thinking - hoping really - that it was my spark plugs or something simple.
Caesar is my guy. He’s a tall, balding guy, that’s cool as hell. While his mechanic checked out my car, I told him about Marcos playing Rugby.
“Rugby,” you say, suddenly curious.
Like most people, he didn’t know we had a small Rugby community here.
While talking about Rugby we got into the topic of wrestling. “Wrestlers are tough.”
Turns out Caesar came in contact with wrestlers during firearm training.
So not only did Caesar want to learn how to shoot a gun, but also learn how to defend himself as if someone was trying to take the gun away.
“What we’re trying to be the Mexican version of John Wick,” I asked.
“More like Juan Wick,” he shot back.
We both had a laugh.
After that I got the prognoses on my car.
It wasn’t my spark plugs.
Nope. My clutch is going out. Damn.
Caesar test drove it to make sure.
When he came back into the room, his face told me it was the clutch.
Now the clutch isn’t the problem. It’s the seven hours of labor that’s the problem. Replacing the clutch, I’m told, will require taking out the transmission.
I looked at my car: so you couldn’t go out when I was making my fat cash, you wait until now to go out.
What’s the old saying, when it rains it pours.
Well, queue the downpour.
I have no choice, I need a car.
It’ll be ready sometime tomorrow.
I’m bummed I didn’t hit my goal.
I’m also bummed I need to replace my clutch.
Such is life.
I’m also bummed that I’m not as far along as I should be in some of goals.
Well, baring some kind of freak accident while I sleep tomorrow is another day.
That said, I need to up my game.
I need a regimen and I need to stick to it at all costs. I need to figure out a workflow that works and keep to it.
The tough part is figuring out that workflow.
Still all in all, at least I’m thinking of parody of John Wick.