On the outside, I try to project an image of having it all together. But underneath that, I'm kind of a disaster. Hence... the name of the site: GlossyVeneer. Tonight I had plans to drive to a town that is about 50 miles south of where I live to go shopping and have dinner with my best friend. I left work an hour early, fueled up the car and hit the road.
I had only been on the road a short time, had only traveled ten miles, when the car started jerking as I passed a truck. Then the speedometer started to drop as the car was rapidly slowing down. So I stopped attempting to pass the truck, fell back and pulled off on the side of the road. When I reached about 40 mph, the engine died. When the engine died my brakes were no longer of any consequence, thus I had to coast along the side of the interstate until the car came to a complete stop.
My first reaction was anger. “I told Kevin there was something not right with my car! Why did I let him convince me otherwise?”
My next reaction was fear, as I tried calling him and realized the line was busy and I couldn’t get through to him. I was scared he would leave for work before I could get through to him. Once he actually made it to work, it would be harder to leave than it would be to get the person on the shift before his to cover for him until he could get in to work.
My next reaction was despair, as tears started to roll down my face. “Why am I stuck here on the side of the road? What am I going to do now?”
Since my parents were out of town, I couldn’t reach my spouse and I couldn’t reach my brother, I called my best friend and told her that I was stuck on the side of the freeway and I wouldn’t be able to come play. So the next reaction was guilt, as her two-year-old said to me, “Aunt Jill not coming? Car broken? Why?”
Lastly, my resilience started to kick in and I thought to myself, “Well, I’ve got to get back home. Let’s see if the car will start and if I can drive to the next off-ramp.”
I turned the key and the car started just fine. So I got back on the road and managed to get back up to 75 mph. I had only driven 4 more miles, when the car started jerking again. I pulled over again, experiencing the same engine failure as before. This time I stopped right next to a sign that told me the next exit was 1 mile ahead. The stupid car wouldn’t even go one more mile!
This time I actually did get through to my husband on the phone. He made a quick call to his work and told them he would be late, seeing as how he had to rescue his stranded wife from the side of the road. I told him I would try to make it to the next off-ramp and to the gas station at that exit.
Lo and behold, the car did start and I drove on the shoulder to the next exit and pulled into the gas station. After sitting in the car for a few moments and making sure I didn’t have streaks down my face from tears, I went into the gas station and bought some caffeine. I went back out to my car and waited 15 minutes for the spouse to get there.
Kevin brought his dad with him to come save me. Silly me! I forgot the in-laws had moved to town and I would have never thought to call them… Ooops. Don’t tell them that, okay?
When Kevin and Big Joe (my father-in-law) got there, we tried starting the car and the damn thing wouldn’t start at all. So we had to call a tow truck to come haul my piece of junk back to town and drop it off at a mechanic. Amazingly, this mechanic was very kind and respectful toward me as I described what happened, unlike so many other experiences I’ve had in this town. (Maybe he was scared that my big manly husband would kick his ass if he was mean to me.)
So now my car is at a mechanic. They won’t get a chance to start looking into the problem until tomorrow. We’re leaving for Las Vegas tomorrow morning to start going house-hunting. We have some appointments to look at some townhomes and other places, so the mechanic is supposed to contact me on my cell phone. I don’t really want to be dealing with the big dilemma of “Where am I going to live?” at the same time of “You want how much to fix that red piece of plastic I call a car?” I have anxiety issues and those are two big questions that will cause me stress. Combine them and I may have a nuclear meltdown.
Kevin is soooooo taking me out for a good dinner tomorrow night.
(Bonus #1 about moving to LV: good variety in restaurants!)
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