As I was getting ready today I thought about this blog. I thought about how I've continued to neglect it, despite my promises to do so no longer. I thought about how tonight I was going to have access to internet and probably not have much to do*, so I should make an attempt to visit this blog. Then I thought about what I would post about. While all this thinking was happening, I didn't mean for it to be a reason for something so unexpected, annoying, expensive, yet completely "blog-worthy" to happen. But just wait a second...this is MY life we're talking about. What happened is the reason I started this blog in the first place. A log, if you will, of events that make me raise my eyebrows, sigh, laugh it off, and move forward.
Maybe my car isn't meant to contain any glass? Maybe there should be shatterproof glass that cars are made with? And if there already is, maybe I should have been notified of this and ensured that all the glass that my car is comprised of has it. Or, maybe people should raise their children to not be so irresponsible and inconsiderate so they don't think that chucking things off an overpass bridge onto the cars below, causing shattered windows, is the best thing they could come up with to do on a Saturday afternoon.
I was confused as to how something could hit my rear window while I was driving on the highway. Perhaps something flew over my car, and landed on it, causing it to shatter, crackle, and eventually cave in, leaving shards of glass all over the backseat? No, no, apparently standing on an overpass and throwing heavy objects down onto the cars below is actually something that people do. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?! Why is this okay? And why are these people getting away with this? No, I didn't call the police. Until I actually got to my destination I didn't think this is what happened, because I didn't think people did this. I'm way too trusting of people. My sister's neighbor tells me he used to do this when he was younger. Thanks for sharing? It made me feel better, that's for sure.
I back my car into one of the parking stalls so the gaping hole in my window is facing a fence with bushes, and not the street where it would be an invitation to take whatever you want out of the car. I put my club on the steering wheel, JUST IN CASE, gather everything of value (read: my iPod, insurance papers, and tanning lotion), and take it with me into the house. And then I wonder what exactly I'm going to do for the next 48 hours.
I now have a car that I feel I shouldn't drive anywhere, only because I don't feel like shielding my face from the chunks of glass that would be flying everywhere while the car's moving. I'm not anywhere near home. There aren't any glass repair shops open on the weekends (I guess these things only happen Monday-Friday, 9 am-5 pm). And I work at 5 am on Monday morning. Umm, ok...ohhhhh, I see, this is one of those tests where I need to think outside the box...well, this happened six hours ago and I still don't really have any ideas.
When it happened I raised my eyebrows. Then I saw the damage and sighed because I shouldn't be surprised. Then I shut my car door, more glass fell in, and I laughed because I remembered who I am. Then I thought about the so-much-worse things that are surely happening to other people and moved forward. This sucks, and it's the most inconvenient thing that could happen, but it could have been so much worse. And so much worse things are happening right now to other people, so I'm not really justified in crying over my spilled milk. However, if you see me hitchiking (I'll be the one with...nothing. I don't even carry a purse anymore), please have mercy. Don't throw rocks at me with expectations of me shattering like my window. Maybe give me a ride? I'm not bad luck, I promise.
Silver lining of this? At least it's not raining.
*This is slightly laughable, since tonight I'm babysitting my two year old nephew.