No. I Don't Want to Know, You Know?

There are those times when I just really don't want to know what I don't know. 

Frequently, I do prefer to believe that what I don't know won't hurt me. 

Which is why, when I took my car in to a shop to have a rattle fixed this morning, I really expected that I'd only hear what was wrong with that rattle and nothing else. 

Then, when they called me to say the car was ready, they started listing off other things that they had found that needed to be fixed. You know, multiple-hundred-dollar things, as opposed to the fifty-dollar fix that I had gone there for. 

Yes, my car is twelve years old. It's at the age when things will be going wrong and when they do I'll have to debate whether fixing or replacing is the better way to go. 

Today, though, the shock of going from a fifty-dollar fix to a fifty-dollars-now-but-hundreds-of-dollars-within-a-few-months was a bit... well... shocking. (Not to mention fiscally pretty much impossible at the moment.) 

It really makes me want to go back to this morning and un-know what I now know. You know?