I am finally back home after more than 16 hours in my car this weekend. My butt is bigger AND has been molded to the shape of a Honda Civic car seat. SWEET!
I think I am going to futz with stuff in my house, all day long, on the 4th. It’s been a while since I’ve been there for any length of time…
As you, my Five—yes, Five!—Faithful Readers already know, A. and I went to the wedding reception in Gillette via Worland so that A.’s mechanic in Worland could do some work on the truck. What a relief to know the truck is going to be running better, even if it means another bill. Right? Right?!?
Um. Yeah. A $420 bill later and THE TRUCK IS RUNNING WORSE THAN BEFORE.
I hate, HATE! owning vehicles. They are stinking, stressful, environmentally heinous, money pits. Every last one of them.
So, the truck is still in Worland because it is in no shape to travel on a highway. For 250 miles. So, A.’s mom dropped it back off to the mechanic today and A. took her car down to L-town2 for the next couple of days. So, we are soon to be parted with how many more hundreds of dollars?
I HATE CARS.
Now – before anyone lectures me about riding a bike to work and around town, let me explain my situation. Because I would LOVE to rely on a bike. In fact, I would love to be a full-time pedestrian. But.
A. and I live in L-town (which is very spread out, just like any other western-state town), but over the summer he is working in L-town2, 250 miles away. There is no reliable, affordable or mildly convenient public transportation across this big square state, so he does indeed require at least one functioning vehicle.
Why do I require a second functioning vehicle, at least while A. is away? Well, because, A. and I don’t actually live in L-town but seven miles north of it. And I do actually work in L-town, as well as buy groceries…etc. (Please don’t get me started about the possibility of moving into town.)
Between our house and L-town sits the campus of a huge automotive technical school. A school that holds staggered classes around the clock. That, thus, has school days starting and ending around the clock and lunch hours in between. This school gives their primarily 18 year-old, male, first-time-away-from-home-and-have-to-show-off-how-powerful-
my-custom-built-car-is, (unfortunately, many times meth addicted) students a whopping 30 minutes to drive into town, eat lunch, drive back to campus, and be back in class. If they are just one minute late to class, these testosterone and meth-driven students are expelled. Because, you see, this big box of an automotive technical school is ALL ABOUT THE PROFIT and not at all about its students.
You can see how this combination of factors results in a resurfacing of my faith in Saint Christopher, who, according to years of Catholic CCD classes, has the power to pray on my behalf and keep me alive and safe from danger whenever I encounter this stretch of highway.
But I doubt that Saint Christopher will waste his time praying for someone little ol’ me, who would so stupidly, so stubbornly, insist on riding my bike and playing Frogger™ with the crazed kids going to and from school.
He’d say I should know better.