How hard can it be?

Restoring something – be it a car or a relationship – is not for those lacking a drive for accomplishment. There is so much to keep track of and so many aspects which must be dealt with very delicately.

Many people eventually abandon the attempt, unknowing to the fact that they were probably 99 percent of the way there. Those that do manage to patch up a tarnished relationship can finally enjoy the benefits, especially if the type is of the romantic variety.

The same thing goes with restored cars, too: a finished car means that you can finally take that first drive you've been imagining for quite some time now, and your worries automatically reduce to proper maintenance and when you'll drive it again. In other words, you've given all the needed goals; now it's time to enjoy the trophy.

It just so happens that my restored car is sitting on the opposite side of the globe, which essentially means that there is still a nettlesome Uruguayan referee in my way. Though, after coordinating a full automobile restoration using some underground wires and a random satellite in orbit, finding someone to bring it here can only be laughingly easy.

Trouble is, it isn't. Finding shipping ended up being the most difficult task among all else that was done these past two years.

I'd have liked to be writing a happy conclusion about how I've overcome this adversity and that the car is well on its way. But no; the search continues, parallel to sorting the last of the paperwork.

So don't hold your breath. But do cross your fingers. I'll need it.