the reason I need to get out
I write with tears in my eyes...
Quite simply, the repairs are going to nickel-and-dime me to death. My fabulous boyfriend has been caring for it for the past two years; he's now flight-instructing six days a week, and can't really devote the energy to it anymore.
Boston has taken its toll on the car as well: my slumlord refused to repair my horrific driveway, and it managed to crack the short down pipe (found it for $124!) on the exhaust (the rest of the exhaust is fine). Somebody dented the rear passenger door. And in a denoument to this comedy of errors, when opening the hood yesterday, one of the hinges broke, the hood fell back and knocked a neat hole in my very expensive windshield. I figure it's a sign from God.
Regardless, the tan leather interior is in really beautiful shape, and the engine will run forever. My best bet is to sell VERY cheaply to a collector--somebody who will love it, or at least be able to use it. Someday I'll have enough money and time to really do one up. Right now, it's just breaking my heart.