January 11, 2012 EditionAlso in this issue...
One of those days
If you've ever had one of those days, which seems to be filled with one inexplicably crazy event after another, you might appreciate my Monday. It started off okay. I was on time and ready to start my day; then my husband announced that he needed to follow me to a station because one of my tires was extremely low on my car. Well that meant it was going to put a crimp in my timetable, but I didn't want a flat so I said sure thing.
Off we went and when I pulled up to the air pump he immediately began checking the tire only to tell me that it was at the correct air pressure and he guessed it just looked low when he was checking it.
I should have known that it was going to be one of those days immediately. But no, I optimistically started my journey to Walnut Ridge with relief that my tires were fine.
The drive in was uneventful and my workday started off fine but then quirky things started happening.
One of the quirkiest has to go under the label of a failure to communicate. If you've ever been in one of those conversations where you suddenly realize that what you are talking about and what the other person is talking about is completely different, you will understand my frustration as I tried to get a correct spelling for a name that would appear in the paper.
Me: "I have two spellings for the name. How do you spell the name?"
Other person: "How do you want me to spell it?"
Me: "I would like to know the correct way."
Other person: "Well if you tell me how to spell it I will see that it's spelled that way."
I had given up by then and decided I was fighting a losing battle and so I said, "Okay, as soon as I find out I'll let you know."
As the day wore on so did my crazies. When I left work at five I thought wow this one is finally over. Wrong! As I prepared to leave Walnut Ridge not one but two trains were blocking my exit. I tried a few alternative routes and I was finally on my way home.
I hate driving in the dark and it was getting dark rapidly. So I hit the back roads to make the trip shorter. This meant taking my ancient Mazda over the curves and steep hills on the ridge. Sure enough on one of the hills old Betsy began complaining. When she finally climbed the stretch and started down the other side I breathed a sigh of relief. Then it happened again and this time it was a little worse but still she made it.
My hour's drive was a little nerve racking, but when I finally turned off to the final stretch I breathed a sigh of relief. As I was nearing my own road I saw to my disbelief that someone was having an even worse day than me.
The backend of a truck was standing at attention with its wheels floating high in the air and the nose stuck deep into a ditch. The unlucky driver (one of my neighbors) was standing there with her hands on her hips and madder than the proverbial wet hen.
I stopped to offer help and was told that it had been one of those days and this was the cherry on top. I told her I knew exactly how she felt. I do admit to a moment of relief that at least I wasn't finishing my day with the front end of my vehicle in a ditch.
I told her I would be right back and went home to get my husband. Not sure what we could do for her I at least hoped we could offer moral support.
So back into the Mazda we got and I started her up, put her in reverse and stepped on the gas and nothing; no movement whatsoever. The old girl had decided she was done. She hadn't finished face down in a ditch, but nevertheless she was finished.
Our neighbor's truck is out of the ditch, she is unhurt and all's well that ends well and, hey, on the upside I have a car that runs like a top. It just won't go anywhere.