So, on Wednesday I get up really early--I practice a bit and head to the gym and finish with time and to spare to attend to my business. But I notice my car was making some strange noises on the road while on my way to the gym, and they persisted afterward. I started praying that whatever was making that noise would remain intact until I was finished for the day, as my only three appointments were unusually close together so I might accommodate a new stop. As the noise worsened, I just prayed I would get to my first stop in one piece. Needless to say, I had a tire that completely exploded beyond any hope of resurrection.
Of course I, like the smart guy I am, forgot what I had learned exactly a month before when my other rear tire went flat on my way to my first appointment on that day, and I wanted to put my spare tire on:
My spare tire kit is missing a lug/star wrench.
I panicked as I went through the options that would most quickly put a lug wrench in my hands, as to not completely offset my entire day. I can't tell you how happy I was to see the highway patrol for a change.
As soon as I could catch my breath later that day, the first thing I do is by a lug wrench for (knock on wood) the next time one of my tires decides to spontaneously combust. As my car was getting fitted with another tire and I donated plasma, I was talking to one of the phlebotomists as she poked one of my fingers (my favorite part...not really). I incurred the "knock on wood" countercurse again when I told her, "At least it wasn't my car."
Remind me not to do that again.
The next day was a great one. I had six total stops. At one place I was given a gift card with a note thanking me for all I did for the residents there. I had enough time to spend my break at lunchtime to write most of what will probably be my next post on the grounds of the local Temple, located conveniently between my morning and afternoon business.
Thursday was a beautiful day.
Fast forward to the end of my day. I'm not quite even a mile away from home, yet traffic slows to a complete halt, like it's wont to do on that 35-mph street during rush hour, which I conveniently avoid most of the time.
And for good reason.
This is the equivalent of my Friday this week, as I have no urgent business on my actual Friday, I don't schedule myself on weekends, nor on Mondays or Tuesdays. I'm looking forward to a long weekend of practice to prepare a series of projects I hope to present in November.
Then, I look in the rearview mirror...
Just in time to see a red truck approaching...
Much faster than someone who's trying to stop...
He swerves hard to the left, but not in time. He hits me, pushes me into the car in front of me...
And that one into two more cars.
***Congratulations, Aaron! You just survived your first car accident!!!***
Irony is a funny thing. This guy just so happened to work at the place that I had gone to the day before to have my tire replaced.
Poor kid. Four cars he had involved, and not a lick of insurance.
You should have seen the cute decal on the back of his truck: "F%*# off", it said.
I was still in mint condition, save for some minute soreness in the right side of my neck that surfaced the next day. I was laughing and joking with the other drivers and the insurance guy. I was largely concerned about the offending driver, who was all but in a panic. I drove without insurance for a little while when I was driving my first car, so I could imagine how I would feel...very vividly.
The last two cars drove away with hardly so much as a bump. The SUV in front of me was built like a tank, taking very minimal damage considering the force with which I was shoved into it. It drove away, sporting as a memento my Toyota insignia in her bumper.
The truck was ultimately impounded.
And my poor Cammie...She's now a Camry sandwich.
The back was still intact, but the front looked like I was pushed into a boulder--beyond salvation.
After some help from my mom, we unloaded almost all the contents of my (messy) car into her car, all of which now litter my bedroom. I was debating whether or not to practice after all. In the end, resorted to brownies (not a good choice for my stomach) and one of my most oft-visited vices: video game binge-ing (Why, Sans? Just why?).
I don't mind tough things happening to me in life, but I wish I could have a larger gap of time to allow me to get the ground beneath me--and keep it there for a few months--before I'm swept off my feet again. Maybe I'd actually stay standing.
My frustration is admittedly recoupled by the social thing again. Last Sunday a few people from the singles' ward actually reached out to me, including Joseph (that's something for another post) and my now-former home teachers, who finally took me up on my offer to have a guy's night which they suggested we have on Wednesday. One of them wasn't going to make it, so they rescheduled for Friday, when I really could have used some time to get my mind off of things.
Then the other wasn't going to make it.
I finally turned down their offer for Saturday. It was this sort of thing that motivated me to leave the singles' ward in the first place--what's a friend that you can't depend on?
This isn't meant to be a pity party--just me narrating my life's events, in an effort to explain why I'm where I am. I want this to be more of an invitation; I updated my profile just before I made this entry, which I plan to progressively update as I choose to share and reveal more about myself. My e-mail for this blog can be accessed there. This is an open invitation if you would like to do or say anything to cheer me up (anything but the old "just keep going--things will get better". I know that (*smiley face*)). I could use some cheering up, or something to look forward to.
Oh, did I mention my younger brother rode my mission bike to work yesterday and got it stolen?