I had an old car once that I worked on. Over a period of time, I got all the right parts for it. I painted it and did some body work. I put a new exhaust system on it so it sounded awesome. It looked amazing. It sounded amazing. But for all my efforts, it wouldn't go over 20 mph. It was embarrassing to get passed by the neighbor kid on his fancy bike that he bought off some shady character or some old lady who could barely see over her 65 Imperial's steering wheel. But it really didn't matter that it took me 2 1/2 hours to get to work or that I could only drive it in residential areas. What mattered was that it got me to where I was going. I mean, it also got about 2 miles to the gallon and thick, black smoke poured out the exhaust. No one could even see the paint job for the smoke. But still, all that mattered was that the wheels spun. I'd take it back to the lab over and over. That's what I called my garage. I kept working on it. The neighbors would shake their heads and even offer to help me. I just knew that if I kept at it, sooner or later I would fix the problem. Unfortunately, I only knew how to change the oil. I kept changing it and changing it, but the car never got fixed. I wasted an entire year trying to fix that car. I had all the right parts. It should have been amazing. Looking back, I would have enjoyed it so much more if it had only ran like it was supposed to. I was embarrassed and frustrated and squandered a bunch of time and money. But hey, the wheels still turned, right?