In contemplating so many that I've seen leave before me, I felt compelled to write my own resignation letter....
Date: Long Time Comin'
My Darling (insert company name here),
Let's cut to the chase. I feel it's about time that we have "the talk". First, let me just clarify that it's not you, it's me. I expect a lot, too much maybe, and I feel that I am asking more of you than you are capable of giving. To blame you for my ridiculously high standards would just be insensitive.
When we started out on this venture together (insert years here) years ago, it was as if we were meant to be. Everything fit together. I needed you, you needed me and we made each other happy. We enjoyed each other's company. Funny how so much can change.
As time progressed I felt that I was not as important to you as I once was. My feelings and ideas no longer seemed important. Sure, you wanted me there with you, but not because you cared, but because you became dependent on me. It became all about the money. I began to feel like it was always about you and what made you happy no matter what I had to sacrifice. Even when I was sick or my personal world seemed to be collapsing, you expected me there. You rarely offered a shoulder or understanding ear. No matter the time of day, when you wanted me by your side I had to be there for you or I would never hear the end of how unreliable I was. I tried, really I did, to accommodate you every time but sometimes I needed to do things that were in my best interest too. That didn't usually go so well in your eyes.
You used to take care of me, even when I was sick - the best you knew how. But eventually, it's like you stopped trying altogether. My heart aches, my body aches and your only response is "some people have it worse". You no longer leave me little random gifts "just because", there are no more encouraging words, no more friendly face to wake up to. It's as if we are living two separate lives under the same roof.
I know I probably didn't make it easier on you either. My dissatisfaction with our relationship began to consume me so much that I stopped trying too. I had hoped you would realize that I was more than just someone to snuggle with when you needed something. Maybe if you had, we wouldn't be in this mess today.
I've tried talking to you, at times I've even yelled. I apologize for that. I just felt that if I said it louder, you'd eventually hear me. Now, when I'm with you, it seems so dark and cold. All you want to do is sit back and watch TV or hang out with all of your friends. I don't feel like I'm a part of something special anymore. I need that. Time has shown me that's just not something you are able to offer.
I need to feel important, not needed as much as wanted. I need to hear how much you need and want me too. Boy, has it been a long time since I've heard that. I want someone to grow old with and I want the security of knowing we'll be taken care of. Always changing the rules of the game so that you win was just not on my agenda.
I hope I'm not coming off harsh or hurtful. That is not my intention. We've had great times and because of our relationship, made some of the best friends I could ask for. I will never regret being a part of your life and I hope you feel the same. Honestly, I hate to imagine where I would be today if it weren't for you. Unfortunately, where I want to be tomorrow is limited by the chains you have on me now and I want to be able to break free and spread my wings.
Breaking up is never easy and I'm sure it will be a little hard on both of us at first. However, we'll quickly find a niche that works for us both and come out stronger in the end. This much I am sure about.
Thank you for all you've done for me and the compromises or sacrifices you made to stay with me all this time. You didn't have to put up with me either but you did. However, I must be moving on now. My dreams and goals are bigger now because of you. It's a scary road but it's the challenge and learning something new I look forward to.
Good luck in all you do and hopefully we'll both find that special place in someone's heart to live happily ever after!
With Deepest Regards,
Julie
P.S. I QUIT US!!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Little Blue Car 1/9/2012
Nine years have passed since I bought my little blue car. I call her Leilani in memory of my mother, which is Hawaiian for beautiful flower. I remember when I set out on my mission to complete a car purchase. Although it was the middle of spring, we had received a generous amount of snow the night before. Contrary to popular misconceptions, snow usually melts quickly in Colorado when the sun is shining. By the time I had left, there were a few banks of snow that had been pushed aside from the plows but it was just a memory on the asphalt of the roads.
I had already set out knowing exactly what I wanted. For the first time in my life, I was making a big purchase on my own. I had wanted a Honda Civic with a moon roof and spoiler, a 5-speed (better to handle in the wintry mountain weather), tinted windows, power locks and a key-less entry. I wasn’t asking for much since most of those were standard features. Finally, I found the one I wanted in the back of the lot. There were only three EX models, one in red the others in silver but I was set on blue.
I was about to leave when they told me they could bring one in from another town that was almost an hour away. I agreed on the condition that they would have it ready for me by the end of the weekend since I wanted features added. When I picked up my new car I was so ecstatic! This was the first time I had ever had a new car. The security of knowing it wouldn’t break down on me leaving me stranded like so many before her had done. The moment was perfect.
Nowadays, she is rickety and worn like an old broken in shoe with scars from accidents gone by and sticky unknown objects from children that have dirtied her once pristine seats. Now, like a little old lady who struggles to reach her destination but with conviction, always seems to come through. She’ll reach 200,000 miles this month and I am saddened knowing that her end is near. I hoped to pass her onto one of my children but I am not sure she’ll live to see that day. So, I trudge on to the next chapter when I get to start all over again on a quest to purchase another new car.
I had already set out knowing exactly what I wanted. For the first time in my life, I was making a big purchase on my own. I had wanted a Honda Civic with a moon roof and spoiler, a 5-speed (better to handle in the wintry mountain weather), tinted windows, power locks and a key-less entry. I wasn’t asking for much since most of those were standard features. Finally, I found the one I wanted in the back of the lot. There were only three EX models, one in red the others in silver but I was set on blue.
I was about to leave when they told me they could bring one in from another town that was almost an hour away. I agreed on the condition that they would have it ready for me by the end of the weekend since I wanted features added. When I picked up my new car I was so ecstatic! This was the first time I had ever had a new car. The security of knowing it wouldn’t break down on me leaving me stranded like so many before her had done. The moment was perfect.
Nowadays, she is rickety and worn like an old broken in shoe with scars from accidents gone by and sticky unknown objects from children that have dirtied her once pristine seats. Now, like a little old lady who struggles to reach her destination but with conviction, always seems to come through. She’ll reach 200,000 miles this month and I am saddened knowing that her end is near. I hoped to pass her onto one of my children but I am not sure she’ll live to see that day. So, I trudge on to the next chapter when I get to start all over again on a quest to purchase another new car.
Fungus! 12/27/2011
They are dismal shades of brown and off whites, sometimes appearing as if just pulled from a pot of soil. They are fairly odorless in their natural environment, but repulsively pungent once cooked. The smell triggers a multitude of reactions within me. A wave of heat rushes over me and I begin to get lightheaded. My mouth begins to fill with saliva similar to when my stomach feels sour and a bitter metallic taste permeates against my taste buds. Frantically, I begin to search for the origination of that horrendous odor.
My eyes scan the room in search; I know it is there somewhere taunting me. Quickly I covertly glance at the meal in front of the person closest to me. Is it there? There is a beautiful cuisine of steamed spring vegetables and a delightful aroma of butter and garlic in the air. Next to it, there is a fillet of white fish garnished in bright tart lemon slices. Although I do not like the smell of fish, this is not the culprit; but it is near.
Anxiety overcomes me as I look down at the plate before me. I tell myself, “There is no way that is coming from my food”. Goosebumps begin to form and a feeling of dizziness overwhelms me. My thoughts begin to race back to the ingredients on the menu. I am sure that I would have caught them if there were listed and again there is a waft of the overpowering scent. I take my fork and start to sift through the food that was so neatly organized on my plate. Alas! My fears have been confirmed. There it is; mocking me in its slimy existence. I muster all that I have to conceal the fungus once more and place the dish as far out of my reach as possible.
“Pardon me, Waitress”, I call out with a waiver in my voice. She responds promptly to my beckoning cry. Fighting back the urge to faint or worse and with barely a breath left within my lungs, I manage to pull the words together and say “I think there are mushrooms in this food”.
P.S. Yes, I do actually have a fear of mushrooms!
My eyes scan the room in search; I know it is there somewhere taunting me. Quickly I covertly glance at the meal in front of the person closest to me. Is it there? There is a beautiful cuisine of steamed spring vegetables and a delightful aroma of butter and garlic in the air. Next to it, there is a fillet of white fish garnished in bright tart lemon slices. Although I do not like the smell of fish, this is not the culprit; but it is near.
Anxiety overcomes me as I look down at the plate before me. I tell myself, “There is no way that is coming from my food”. Goosebumps begin to form and a feeling of dizziness overwhelms me. My thoughts begin to race back to the ingredients on the menu. I am sure that I would have caught them if there were listed and again there is a waft of the overpowering scent. I take my fork and start to sift through the food that was so neatly organized on my plate. Alas! My fears have been confirmed. There it is; mocking me in its slimy existence. I muster all that I have to conceal the fungus once more and place the dish as far out of my reach as possible.
“Pardon me, Waitress”, I call out with a waiver in my voice. She responds promptly to my beckoning cry. Fighting back the urge to faint or worse and with barely a breath left within my lungs, I manage to pull the words together and say “I think there are mushrooms in this food”.
P.S. Yes, I do actually have a fear of mushrooms!
My little man... 12/26/2011
There I sat on a cold, metallic bench in the cool autumn air – waiting, just waiting. I was sure I emitted enough enthusiasm that could be felt from across the isolated field. I know there were sounds from the passing traffic, roaring jet engines overhead and of the hundreds of spectators that seemed to invade my private little moment. However, all I could hear was the deafening sound of my heart, thumping and pounding away inside my chest like an old steel drum. I could hardly catch my breath and I felt myself struggling to swallow as lumps of emotion overcame me. I wasn’t going to cry.
Holding back the tears and my head held high, I watched the seconds slowly ticking away. In just a few moments there would be a battalion of young men and women marching in tight systematic rows, parading down that very path. All of their innocent youthful faces would be concealed by the shadows emitting from the brims of their hats. Their green and tan attire made them appear like one large conglomeration of shrubbery against the barren terrain of the desert around. It had been many years since I had been a part of such a presentation.
Alas, the bugles sounded over the speaker system and like wind up tin soldiers, they all stood at attention. Row by row they began to hustle into place onto the field below and for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of the familiar contours of his face. He was no longer the petite little boy I used to cradle in my arms. He was evolving into a man before my very eyes. Although the pride and joy consumed me, I felt a tinge of sadness in my heart. Would he still want me to help carry the burdens this jagged life would toss his way? This was my little man – now a junior cadet in the corps. As I’ve done in so many challenging instances before, I inhaled a deep breath of air and slowly exhaled. I would not allow my weakness to consume me. Just like the budding junior soldiers, I too would remain poised.
Although this event was an annual occurrence, this was the first my son was a part of. I remember feeling similar emotions when I sat in the stands watching his father at a similar procession many moons earlier, but this moment would forever change me. No longer could I see my baby but the man he had become. The reality was that he would not be under the security of my wings much longer and was quickly nearing a departure from home. This was the moment I feel that every mother not only dreams of for their children, but also dreads as they know they are losing that piece of themselves as they begin to leave home. This was the day I saw myself face to face with a great man.
Holding back the tears and my head held high, I watched the seconds slowly ticking away. In just a few moments there would be a battalion of young men and women marching in tight systematic rows, parading down that very path. All of their innocent youthful faces would be concealed by the shadows emitting from the brims of their hats. Their green and tan attire made them appear like one large conglomeration of shrubbery against the barren terrain of the desert around. It had been many years since I had been a part of such a presentation.
Alas, the bugles sounded over the speaker system and like wind up tin soldiers, they all stood at attention. Row by row they began to hustle into place onto the field below and for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of the familiar contours of his face. He was no longer the petite little boy I used to cradle in my arms. He was evolving into a man before my very eyes. Although the pride and joy consumed me, I felt a tinge of sadness in my heart. Would he still want me to help carry the burdens this jagged life would toss his way? This was my little man – now a junior cadet in the corps. As I’ve done in so many challenging instances before, I inhaled a deep breath of air and slowly exhaled. I would not allow my weakness to consume me. Just like the budding junior soldiers, I too would remain poised.
Although this event was an annual occurrence, this was the first my son was a part of. I remember feeling similar emotions when I sat in the stands watching his father at a similar procession many moons earlier, but this moment would forever change me. No longer could I see my baby but the man he had become. The reality was that he would not be under the security of my wings much longer and was quickly nearing a departure from home. This was the moment I feel that every mother not only dreams of for their children, but also dreads as they know they are losing that piece of themselves as they begin to leave home. This was the day I saw myself face to face with a great man.
Random nonsense.... 10/18/2011
Honestly, I should be sleeping at these wee hours of the early morn; however, when I am overcome with nagging chatter in my head, this blank slate becomes by sanctuary and my attempt to lull myself into a restful slumber.
I have been burdened with the fact that I have decided that a certain “venture” in my life I can no longer sustain and so I have stepped out. The downfall is that the hours not used thinking for this area become stewing ideas and thoughts in my head that somehow nag at me like the annoying housefly that just keeps buzzing and buzzing and zipping past your nose and buzzing and buzzing and whizzing by your ear… I am sure you understand my point. Murder is the only escape to sanity!!! (Errr, at least in the fly’s case). With these hounding thoughts, catching them and releasing them like the humane little creature I want to be becomes the only resolution.
It occurs to me that there are many brilliant men and women that have and do live among us. I find idle pleasure in searching quotes that touch my soul or speak what I am unable to collectively place into lyrical perspective. Such minds like Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr., Plato, etc. – it consumes my psyche with a drive and desire to live and search for a better life mantra; to invoke this inner me to come out and “teach the world to sing in perfect harmony”. Difficult task… but at least that’s the thought that keeps egging me on.
What I would give to be able to allow someone to step inside my head with all my thoughts and randomness, my constant self-disciplinary and “Go Me” thoughts, the horrible things and the ridiculously insane (yet tremendously amusing – at least to me) thoughts. The plethora of information and conversation that is constantly swirling in my cranium…. It’s a wonder I haven’t been committed. Just think the adventure one could have – what a tourist attraction! I could appease the feeble minded just as easily as I could an intellect. The only thing to worry about is getting lost or wanting to get off the ride; that could pose a whole different set of challenges.
I wonder if this is a psychological disorder I suffer from or those lazy doctors who may jump to the simple conclusion that it’s an easily labeled disorder like ADHD. Bah-humbug! Having been a devout Psych major I do believe that such a “disorder” exists but that it is over-diagnosed. Or is this a sign that I am losing or have lost my mind? Maybe I can redeem myself and it’s simply the sign of a genius. Whatever it is, why are my thoughts so easily misconstrued or received inaccurately? Do I fail to simplify these in a cohesive manner?
Often times, especially lately, I feel like I am completely rational and virtually Zen-like in my tinkering thoughts. Yet, when I open my mouth to speak, it’s as if I am speaking a foreign language to my peers or like I have just burned my tongue on a boiling hot bowl of homemade soup and I am then perceived as a bumbling idiot to these people who I wanted to enlighten. I continually contemplate as to whether or not my thoughts are too complex, too abrasive, or too abstract for the majority to comprehend. I am literally befuddled.
I provide disclosures that I have no concise reasoning as to WHY these thoughts are lingering or WHERE they spawned from in most cases – they’re just there. People are always asking for the truth. Honestly – the truth is that the truth is usually undesirable so due to these politically correct standards we have securely wrapped ourselves inside of; we find that we have to mask “the truth” or “fabricate the truth” with “little white lies” to pacify the weak minded individuals which seem to have overpopulated this floating rock. Sometimes I feel that it would just be simpler to take up residence in my own secluded padded white abode to avoid having to cope with the concept of political correctness. However, in hind sight, that defeats the mission I set out on to open up the world to a better way…
So, the majority of time, I find myself organizing, reviewing, analyzing these thoughts – placing them into neat little categories. “Is this one I keep locked up?” “Is this one I can modify and construct vocally to be passive enough yet comprehended in the manner in which it was created for” “Do I just blurt it out and not worry about consequences that follow”? These may seem silly but so many of these thoughts and ideas that are consuming my cerebellum are being categorized in this very way – even now as I type this nonsensical chatter do I continue to audit myself.
The Irony in all of this was that I was just discussing with my teenage son how this very issue would keep me up through odd hours of the night and eat away at valuable sleep time. Whether it is because I was thinking about it and it was a lingering thought that needed to be pampered or whether it was sparked by one thought that branched out into the millions of seemingly random ones, I am not sure that I will ever understand. Just that I feel I am not like the regular people in my understanding and communications. Additionally, that I have just spent an hour writing in colorful circles about absolutely nothing instead of getting my needed slumber of which I will only be able to catch one hour of before starting a new day…. Oye Vaye.
Adventures in Driving… 10-02-2008
Ok, here I am again... dorkzilla, back to elaborate on yet another simple situation to make it the size of the galaxy all for my own amusement... hopefully yours a little.
Let me start off by saying I am a female so I understand I was not granted the most awesome gift from God of being the world's best driver, but I haven't killed anyone... yet....
In order to enjoy the simple pleasures of a nice house, I must travel 50 miles each way to and from work, through the hot desert sun, uphill, both ways... hehe. I knew this may eventually pose a slight problem being a nightwalker and all (for those sun soakers, that means I work graveyards), but last week my worst fear almost came to fruition.
Let's just say that I may have not been sleeping good Monday so therefore, come Monday night, I was wishing I was sleeping REALLY good. This is where that whole concept of the "unmentionable place" comes to mind (work - blah). It was a battle all night to keep the shutters of my visionary processors open... and I feel I did alright considering who the hell is really watching paid programming at 4 in the morning anyway??
But I was raring to go. I only had an hour drive to get to the sanctity of my boudoir (didn't know I could speak French, did you?). I was doing ok… although, I may have scared a few motorists with some crafty and surprising lane changes, but I was still within some of the lines...
And there it was... Exit 200! Inside, I was jumping for joy but outside, the excitement was too much to handle and again I lost my battle with the Sandman.... damn nemesis of mine!
I was getting off the exit ramp and some tard-hole decided to make the exit ramp curved like a snake (or those of you in CO, a mountain road). WTF!! Disregard the fact that it may have always been a little "wavy" but that day it was supposed to be straight!
Thus, causing me to veer a little off the road... but I AM WOMAN and I recovered... only to be tripped up by loose gravel on the road!! Who would have put that there?? So I found myself in some time warp, still barely concsious but aware enough of my impending demise, spinning around with my front winshield facing potential oncoming traffic! Lucky me though, my car decided to actually exit the off ramp causing me to slide down the embankment of the road onto the evil desert sand!
This is when my Super Sleuth instincts kicked into high gear. I looked around in a moment of panic to see who was everywhere. When I realized I wasn't dead and There were no cars in the immediate area, I flipped a "female dog", got back onto that devious off-ramp and high tailed it home.
The car was pulling really hard to the left... "Great", I thought. "I broke it too". But the mission at hand was to get into the secret confines of my garage and fade away into embarrassing slumber.
When I got home, luckily I only managed to give myself a flat tire by jamming EVIL AZ pebbles into the wheel frame which was easily remedied by calling my brother over to drive me to the shop to have them re-mount it and pump some hot air in that sucker (thank heaven, we have a lot of that out here).
The lesson of the day, kids? Don't forget to mail away for your secret decoder ring and open up your opportunities into the ways of the master gumshoe so you can find your way out of sticky situations such as these....
And, by the way, I still haven't killed anyone driving.... YET....
Let me start off by saying I am a female so I understand I was not granted the most awesome gift from God of being the world's best driver, but I haven't killed anyone... yet....
In order to enjoy the simple pleasures of a nice house, I must travel 50 miles each way to and from work, through the hot desert sun, uphill, both ways... hehe. I knew this may eventually pose a slight problem being a nightwalker and all (for those sun soakers, that means I work graveyards), but last week my worst fear almost came to fruition.
Let's just say that I may have not been sleeping good Monday so therefore, come Monday night, I was wishing I was sleeping REALLY good. This is where that whole concept of the "unmentionable place" comes to mind (work - blah). It was a battle all night to keep the shutters of my visionary processors open... and I feel I did alright considering who the hell is really watching paid programming at 4 in the morning anyway??
But I was raring to go. I only had an hour drive to get to the sanctity of my boudoir (didn't know I could speak French, did you?). I was doing ok… although, I may have scared a few motorists with some crafty and surprising lane changes, but I was still within some of the lines...
And there it was... Exit 200! Inside, I was jumping for joy but outside, the excitement was too much to handle and again I lost my battle with the Sandman.... damn nemesis of mine!
I was getting off the exit ramp and some tard-hole decided to make the exit ramp curved like a snake (or those of you in CO, a mountain road). WTF!! Disregard the fact that it may have always been a little "wavy" but that day it was supposed to be straight!
Thus, causing me to veer a little off the road... but I AM WOMAN and I recovered... only to be tripped up by loose gravel on the road!! Who would have put that there?? So I found myself in some time warp, still barely concsious but aware enough of my impending demise, spinning around with my front winshield facing potential oncoming traffic! Lucky me though, my car decided to actually exit the off ramp causing me to slide down the embankment of the road onto the evil desert sand!
This is when my Super Sleuth instincts kicked into high gear. I looked around in a moment of panic to see who was everywhere. When I realized I wasn't dead and There were no cars in the immediate area, I flipped a "female dog", got back onto that devious off-ramp and high tailed it home.
The car was pulling really hard to the left... "Great", I thought. "I broke it too". But the mission at hand was to get into the secret confines of my garage and fade away into embarrassing slumber.
When I got home, luckily I only managed to give myself a flat tire by jamming EVIL AZ pebbles into the wheel frame which was easily remedied by calling my brother over to drive me to the shop to have them re-mount it and pump some hot air in that sucker (thank heaven, we have a lot of that out here).
The lesson of the day, kids? Don't forget to mail away for your secret decoder ring and open up your opportunities into the ways of the master gumshoe so you can find your way out of sticky situations such as these....
And, by the way, I still haven't killed anyone driving.... YET....
Bumper cars used to be so much fun…? 3/12/2009
Do you remember the days when you were a kid and you were so excited to go to the local amusement park or traveling carnival? One of my most favorite rides was the bumper cars. Not sure why this was soooo exciting other than you were allowed to drive before you had a license. It was the thrill of being behind the wheel... you had control!
"BEFORE you had a license", I said!! What the heck! Good thing is that the intelligent person who came up with this so called "ride" put rubber bumpers on the cute little car. Why was this person not given the Nobel Prize and have the auto industry start placing these on street vehicles??!! Or, better yet, why did Cracker Jacks start handing out driver's licenses as the surprise toy in the bottom of the box??
Where am I going with this, you ponder? A 5 minute trip the bank becomes a 6 hour excursion due to the lack of thought put into bounce proof cars and handing driver's licenses to every Tom, Dick & Mary (or Maria in this case).
Every time I have ever been hit and not been at fault, an old lady crawls out from behind her over-sized steering wheel and down off of her 6 inch booster seat! That should be the number one indicator that she needs to be retested frequently to KEEP her license. HELLLOOOO!!!?? Too short to "see" the road wasn't a red flag?
Now, my Sweet Leilani lies in pieces, tormented and wounded for the next 4-5 days while the kindness of some stranger, (who probably wants to take me or the insurance company for all that he can), mends her broken body and boosts her spirits by giving her a well needed makeover.
I think my once youthful, beautiful Leilani gives false representation that she yurns to be a fun-giving bumper car since she has been in 5, count them... 5, accidents of sorts since bringing her home in her swaddling clothes. My children haven't even been in this many accidents!!!
I think I need to invest in a yellow caution strip with reflectors and flashing hazard lights so that no one misinterprets her jovial character as "Baby Buggy Bumper play time". Maybe add a megaphone and speaker system that shouts "A-UUUGA!!" in that cartoon way when another heap of metal and/or Plexiglas is within a yard of her delicate, pearl blue skin. OR just start testing the old farts more frequently, a majority ruled jury decision and no one with a flipping BOOSTER SEAT for Pete's Sake!!! I mean, I'm short and I don't have one!!
For all of you worriers out there don't fret. In reality, she simply backed into my rear passenger side door as I was going to withdraw well needed funds from the only cursed bank in this desolation they call a town. In less than 6 hours, I had claims filed through both insurance companies, estimates from both companies' collision centers, a rental car (a gas hog of course) and my crippled baby already in the shop and being disassembled like Johnny 5. Damn I'm good!! AND... to top it off, she'll be all better and raring to taking us on our trip out to LEGOLAND next week --- and all this before either insurance company can ironically reach the old hag who hasn't figured out how to use her rearview mirror!!
DISCLAIMER
**No one was injured in the making of this story. All events are based on actual events and places although the names may have been changed to protect the identity of those involved - except for the moronic Maria.**
Thank you and good day!
"BEFORE you had a license", I said!! What the heck! Good thing is that the intelligent person who came up with this so called "ride" put rubber bumpers on the cute little car. Why was this person not given the Nobel Prize and have the auto industry start placing these on street vehicles??!! Or, better yet, why did Cracker Jacks start handing out driver's licenses as the surprise toy in the bottom of the box??
Where am I going with this, you ponder? A 5 minute trip the bank becomes a 6 hour excursion due to the lack of thought put into bounce proof cars and handing driver's licenses to every Tom, Dick & Mary (or Maria in this case).
Every time I have ever been hit and not been at fault, an old lady crawls out from behind her over-sized steering wheel and down off of her 6 inch booster seat! That should be the number one indicator that she needs to be retested frequently to KEEP her license. HELLLOOOO!!!?? Too short to "see" the road wasn't a red flag?
Now, my Sweet Leilani lies in pieces, tormented and wounded for the next 4-5 days while the kindness of some stranger, (who probably wants to take me or the insurance company for all that he can), mends her broken body and boosts her spirits by giving her a well needed makeover.
I think my once youthful, beautiful Leilani gives false representation that she yurns to be a fun-giving bumper car since she has been in 5, count them... 5, accidents of sorts since bringing her home in her swaddling clothes. My children haven't even been in this many accidents!!!
I think I need to invest in a yellow caution strip with reflectors and flashing hazard lights so that no one misinterprets her jovial character as "Baby Buggy Bumper play time". Maybe add a megaphone and speaker system that shouts "A-UUUGA!!" in that cartoon way when another heap of metal and/or Plexiglas is within a yard of her delicate, pearl blue skin. OR just start testing the old farts more frequently, a majority ruled jury decision and no one with a flipping BOOSTER SEAT for Pete's Sake!!! I mean, I'm short and I don't have one!!
For all of you worriers out there don't fret. In reality, she simply backed into my rear passenger side door as I was going to withdraw well needed funds from the only cursed bank in this desolation they call a town. In less than 6 hours, I had claims filed through both insurance companies, estimates from both companies' collision centers, a rental car (a gas hog of course) and my crippled baby already in the shop and being disassembled like Johnny 5. Damn I'm good!! AND... to top it off, she'll be all better and raring to taking us on our trip out to LEGOLAND next week --- and all this before either insurance company can ironically reach the old hag who hasn't figured out how to use her rearview mirror!!
DISCLAIMER
**No one was injured in the making of this story. All events are based on actual events and places although the names may have been changed to protect the identity of those involved - except for the moronic Maria.**
Thank you and good day!
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