A few days ago, I skipped my happy self down the driveway to my car. I was headed off to the 4:30 class after a long day of sitting in a chair and working. It was going to feel so good to get in the heat and stretch out.
Oh, Hi there my best friend, the Universe. Did you have other plans for me? Oh, you did. Oh, I see. What’s that? You don’t want me to go to the 4:30 class? You want me to sit here and figure out how to solve this awesome problem of my car not starting out of the blue? You sure do like to throw challenges at me my friend.
Wait, why are we even friends again? Can’t you find someone else to play with for awhile?
Seriously – my car would not start. The temperature was starting to drop outside and, because I am lazy, I had on yoga clothes but not actual pants.
Three guys got around my car and concluded that the issue was most likely the fuel pump. Did it matter? Not really. All I knew was I had to get my car towed and down to the dealer to get it fixed. So I did. Problem sorta solved for the moment.
So I had resigned myself to not going to class when the opportunity appeared for me to take the 6:30 pm class. One of the nice guys was going to let me borrow his truck. His gigantic truck that uses a stick.
Guess who hasn’t driven a stick in over 10 years?
Universe, I swear, I do not know what to do about our relationship. You are sorta nice to me by finding me a ride to the next class, but then you make it be a giant truck with a stick that I have to drive myself. I attempted to bribe the guy into driving me by offering to pay for a yoga class. He declined.
In addition to my grocery shopping skills, my bribery skills also suck. I just didn’t want to have to drive the truck is all. But drive the truck I did. After about five minutes of messing this poor guy’s truck up (kidding! sort of!), I got the hang of driving a stick again. But I still drove really slow all the way to the 6:30 class. The fact that it was a bit traffic-y at this time helped. For once, I was thrilled that there were a lot of cars driving slowly on the road.
But on the way home? On the way home it was snowing. And it was later determined that a fuse had likely blown causing the dashboard light to not work. So I had no idea of how fast I was going down the freeway for the 5 miles I had to be on it. Oh – and the Low Fuel light came on too. Lovely.
But, since I live in the south, no one else was on the road. So no big deal, right? Right. I just stayed in the right lane and went about 40 miles an hour. Who cares?
Well, apparently one dude really, really cared. Even though there were no other cars in any other lane on the road, he felt the need to come up right behind me and flash his brights multiple times. And Universe, you would have been proud of me. I did not freak out or get even a tiny bit mad. Nope. Not at all. Instead, I thought:
This guy has no idea that my car was towed a couple of hours ago. He does not know I am driving a stick for the first time in forever. And on top of it all, it is snowing. He is also apparently blind and cannot see that every other lane on this freeway is wide open. He’s doing the best he can.
And then I proceeded to hit every single possible light on the way home making the trip feel like it took 1000 hours when it probably only took 5-10 minutes more.
But I made it. And my car survived too and was returned the next day. I got to class, and I think I did a pretty darn good job of staying in the moment.