In Which Mercury Bites Me in the Ass
Mercury's retrograde cycles tend to be pretty kind to me, but I knew that if ever one was going to get me, this was going to be it. And, in fact, it did.After a fantastic weekend with Bradshaw (about which you'll get more information later), I left the city at almost exactly 4 pm to start my four-hour drive home. I was pretty proud of myself; I was always the girl who didn't make it back to the dorms until almost midnight after a weekend home (and that drive was only an hour and a half), and this time I managed to leave early enough that I'd make it home around sunset.
A little over an hour into my trip, I stopped for gas and a snack. Filled the tank, reset the trip, toyed with the GPS, situated myself. I turned the key and, predictably, the car started.
Then died.
Repeatedly.
I called my dad, who proceeded to berate me for really ridiculous and inconsequential things ("Why did you go to that gas station instead of the truck stop? Why didn't you tell me you were planning to get food? Why didn't you get food before you got gas?") and stress me to tears. So while I sat in my car, sweltering in the sun and crying, it was decided that my parents would come with the tow dolly they use with their RV and drag my car home.
I called Bradshaw and stress-cried to her for a bit, but finally managed to quell the annoying tears. I walked to a nearby fast food restaurant and suddenly felt homeless, which I shared in a text message. Then my phone began to beep, informing me that it was going to die. Awesome. I went into battery conservation mode (don't touch it no matter how much you want to know what time it is) and stepped into the bathroom to attempt to make myself look presentable without sunglasses. And learned that my lady time* had come early. Super awesome.
Let's review. It is now 6:30 pm, I am three hours from home with a dead car sitting in a gas station parking lot off the interstate, and the death of my phone is imminent. Additionally, I am female, very petite, and it is obvious that I have been crying.
I sat at a picnic table until the sun set around 8, pretending to read Catching Fire and hiding my laptop under my purse next to me on the bench. I say pretending because sitting outside alone at a gas station made me a little anxious. When it started to get dark, I locked myself in the car, leaving behind some of the anxiety; now there's metal and glass between me and my would-be attacker.
At 9:30 (four hours after my arrival at the gas station), my parents rolled up. My dad got in my car, turned the key, and drove out of the parking lot.
Motherfucker.
I've always known that my car was female. See, I believe that cars, particularly older cars, have genders and personalities. Mine is a female prone to throwing hissy fits. Bradshaw and I named her S&M a few years back, a play on the name of the paint color**, but she certainly lived up to the sadistic part of the equation.
It was decided that instead of towing the car, I would just follow my parents home. Unfortunately, there was fog, so taking the 30 miles of rural highway that would cut almost an hour off the trip was a bad idea. We had to take the long-but-safe way. Sigh.
I like driving. I especially enjoy taking these sorts of trips alone; I sing with the radio at ridiculous volumes, dance in my seat, and tell stories in my head (and sometimes out loud). I like being in control and I like the solitude. I like these trips even more when I'm not in a hurry to get to my final destination, though I still speed and get annoyed when another driver forces me to slow down.
I did not enjoy the trip home this time around. What was meant to be a drive that took about four hours ended up being a nine-hour debacle. I had plans for that drive, kittens. All thwarted. I don't typically find driving exhausting, but when we rolled into town at one a.m., all I wanted to do was get. out. of. the. car.
Mercury bit me in the ass. Hard.
*All of the euphemisms we have to choose from for the lady time? They suck. And I will probably never mention that natural occurrence ever again on this blog. I'm actually shocked that I did it this time.
**The sticker lists the color as "spruce metallic." My car is not green by any stretch of the imagination. It is gray.
Labels: astrology, drama, updates
posted by nicalyse @ 12:05 PM
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