Last night I was googling desserts for one, and the fact that I am single (or soon to be) sort of hit me. Right in the face. And then right in the feelings.
It’s almost 3 weeks now. It will be on Wednesday. Or Thursday, I suppose, if you want to get technical. I was dog-sitting for the Other and got to spend the week alone in the cottage. On one hand it was good timing because my sister and her boyfriend and their dog are all at my mom’s right now. On the other hand, it was far too easy to stay in bed until 1, eat a handful of almonds, and then retire to the couch for the rest of the day. I’m not sure if it’s a coping mechanism, or if it’s depression, or if it’s maybe just laziness. It’s truly hard to say at this time.
On Friday night I drove out to have dinner with the sis, bf, and ma. It was a far drive, but I didn’t mind. It’s nice to get out. I didn’t stay for too long, and on the way back encountered a large line of traffic. My first thought was road block, and while I hadn’t been drinking, I wasn’t able to find my purse. I launched into a bit of a tizzy, messaged the sister, searched everywhere. After a few minutes I discovered it just beneath the front of the passenger seat. The dog was with me so I’d rolled the window down because he was fogging the place up. After it was clear we weren’t moving, I put on the emergency break and promptly took my foot off the clutch. While still in gear. The car stalled, naturally. The thing is, my car is a hunk of shit, so after it stalled it refused to start. Then it started raining.
So I’m sitting there in this huge line of traffic. Emergency vehicles are tearing up and down the shoulder of the highway. No sirens, just lights, so something weird’s happening. At this point my battery is so fucked that I can’t even start the car enough to roll up my windows. Because of course, they’re electric. After having a mild panic attack, I got out of the car and knocked on the window of the vehicle ahead of me. It was a couple, maybe a little older than me, and she was very much pregnant. I explained my situation and he said “I was wondering what was going on with your lights back there.”
Holding back every iota of stress coursing through my veins, I asked if he would be able to give me a jump. He turned his car around and got me started, and was very nice about it considering I had no idea what to do and was essentially asking him to stand in the rain to help out a stranger. After the car started he suggested that I idle the engine at about 15 for ten minutes, to make sure it got a good charge. So I did. With the lights off because that’s a good way to conserve energy, right? Sure. Know what else it’s good for? Not lighting up the dashboard doohickeys in the dark. So I revved away for 10 minutes, praying that this line gets moving before the car dies again.
It had been about 20 minutes now. Did I mention I had to pee? For about 10 minutes before I’d even hit the line. No? Well.
The line started moving, slowly, and I turned my lights on. Oh look! The car’s overheated. Oh even better, there’s smoke billowing from beneath my hood.
Wonderful.
I blasted the heat and kept an eye on the dial, now praying that the line would get moving before the car explodes. I started picking up a little speed and it started cooling down. All the meanwhile, not even wondering what the deal was with this insane line up. Until I passed the first cop that was directing traffic, and saw the look on her face. And then two more. And then the car. Flipped upside down in the middle of the highway. Mangled. No glass, frame bent to shit. There was something on the street next to it, it looked like a leg but I couldn’t bring myself to turn my head while I was driving past. I heard the sound of a fire hose turning on and water hitting the street. Passed two more cops, one looked ready to vomit, one looked ready to cry.
The car had cooled.
I made it home.
But someone that night didn’t.
And it’s funny, because stuff like that puts things in perspective, right? I mean, suddenly my panic about getting a ticket for not having my licence with me, or about being embarrassed because my car won’t start and I have to sit in 40 minutes worth of traffic flowing past me while everyone curses at me, suddenly not such a huge deal. I still don’t know exactly what happened.
So yesterday I spent the day hunched over my keyboard and laptop learning this song. I’ve fallen head over heels for it, and I’ve already memorized the words so as soon as I memorize the piano I should be able to put it together. I’m very excited about it.
I was in the midst of the first bridge when the Other popped in. It was the first time I’d seen him in a week. It was awkward. The dog was very upset when he left. So I kept playing.
He came back a night early, so tonight I headed back to my mom’s place. She has this somewhat obsessive nature which she takes out on the furniture. And the walls. And the floors. It’s a rare occurrence to have the furniture in one place for longer than 2 weeks. If she can go a month it’s a damn miracle. Usually it’s about once a week that a major change is made. So of course when I got “home” she started discussing moving the dining room table. And then the curtains. And then the couches. At that point I got up, packed up my laptop, and went upstairs. I’m stressed enough as it is. Having these constant changes, and listening to these constant plans, yeah, not helping. Being asked what I think about the inane and unnecessary ideas? Also not helping. And I don’t think she realizes that it’s really making it that much worse for me, because she lives in her own little world.
But I do too. I realized tonight that lately all I’ve been doing is complaining. How fucking boring that must be for everyone I’m forcing to listen to it. I think for now I can say it’s justified, but pretty soon I’m going to have to just start sucking it up and dealing with it and moving on. Which will definitely not be a bad thing.
So silver linings to end it on a positive note. My sister as an adult is pretty cool, and the interactions thus far have been enjoyable. Her boyfriend is quite charming and funny, and useful around the house (my mom has already claimed him as a second son). The dog is a bit of a shithead, but is tiny, so by nature is kind of cute. And today I bought new jeans that were two sizes smaller than the last time I bought new jeans.
I’d like to have more positive things in my life, and I think the first start to that is positive thoughts. Obvious but easy to forget.
Also, I would like to suggest you listen to the lyrics of this song, because the story they tell is absolutely lovely.
*note, this is a cover of carol king covering maurice sendak’s story.
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