Our car got creamed yesterday. Just sitting there, minding its own business in front of the barber shop, and BOOM! smush-a-rama. The back quarter of it is really, really wrecked. Happily SJ and the boy were tucked inside of said barber shop and were able to watch it all happen from a distance. Happier still, two very credible, We're Friends With Police People types also witnessed it all and took down the license plate number of the very large truck that kept on driving.
It looks pretty terrible. It's probably going to be a huge hassle to repair, if it even can be repaired. And yet both Scott and I found ourselves very at rest with the whole thing. Like we could just check one more box off the List of Shit We'll Deal With In 2011. Almost a relief, really. There aren't that many days left in the year relatively speaking - surely we're almost done?
What I find odd is the space between this Life That Is Actually Happening and the Life That I Think Should Start Soon. I could actually be convinced that the Car Smush is just a twist in plot of a movie playing on TV, while my real car is just fine in that other life I'm meant to be living. I realize typing this, that this may reveal a bit more of my crazy than is wise.
A friend asked if this introspection is typical of the "new year" that is September and indeed it is. Every summer we find ourselves in moments where we taste rest and contentment. We begin wonder if we ought to be doing something differently more often to live in that rest and contentment more full time. And every September, the lastest version of Same Old Same Old starts up again with all its familiar sore spots and resentments and boredoms and vanities and we realize, This Is It. Again.
Tips?
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