Potholes

I felt like crap this morning and one of the tires on my car was near flat, so I called in sick to work. When I took my car quickly down the street to put air in the tire I noticed that there was something else wrong and really, I should have just ignored it because ignoring it would have made this day turn out ten times better. One of the lugnuts on my right rear tire was missing. I decided to take the car into the shop to have the missing part replaced and that is when bad shit happened.

On the way to the shop, still feeling like crap and feeling like I should just be home in bed, I ran into a rather large pothole. It wasn’t until a minute or so later that I realized how much damage I’d done to my poor little car thanks to that big fucking hole in the ground. My car started to make a noise I’d never heard before and I knew I was in for it.

The guys at the shop later told me that the bolts on one of the motor mounts were missing and that was what the noise was. From that information I assumed that it must’ve been my encounter with the hole that caused the problem. After all, it wasn’t acting up on my trip to see Beth the Bassist on Saturday and it didn’t act up on Sunday when I went to Nashua either.

Because their computer systems were down they couldn’t tell me how much it would cost and it was doing me no good to be staying there, feeling the way that I was. They had their shuttle take me home and I came in, got into my pajamas and crawled back into bed. I considered just falling back to sleep.

Instead, I finally got up and I brought my laptop out into the living room and began to work again on my journal entries for 1998. You’ll notice that I’ve now covered back through July 98, which is a huge advance over where I was a couple of days ago when it looked like I would be trapped forever in the writing of November of that year.

I watched Titanic during the latter half of my writing and towards the end I stopped writing and just watched and, for the first time since I saw that film for the first time in December 1997, I teared up a bit at the end.

And now the day is over and I can’t help but think, if I had just gone into work today, grinned and beared it in terms of the sickness I’m dealing with… if I had just done that, would my car be in the shop tonight? Would I have to be figuring out what busses to take tomorrow morning? Would it have made a difference?