When I was in elementary school a good family friend - one I always looked to for the best of adventures, the most exciting family vacations, and as the only boy friend I was "cool enough" to have at the time - was in a bike accident in which he was going down a hill and the front wheel came loose, toppling him to a crushed helmet, a reconstructed face, and probably some other damages that Ten-year-old Me didn't really process.
With my current car, my beloved 1997 green whip and actually any other car I've ever driven, I have an irrational fear of tire issues. I often circle my car before leaving the grocery store just to make sure everything looks alright. Flats or just losing the tire entirely. The first issue I ever had with a car, my first call to AAA, was due to my tire being torn off the side of the wheel when I was pulled out of a snowy ditch during a blizzard with the high school boyfriend, becoming a mean, burnt up flat tire as I drove to Sugarloaf. Upon arrival in Park City a few weeks ago, I had a sound grating and whining from what turned out to be a wheel bearing needing replacing.
And then there is just life. The part of life where you're going along smoothly, feeling like you might just have the ducks in a line, that people respect and value you, you've attained a job or at least a life that you feel is at the very least acceptable, and things are alright. The greatest problem with such a situation is it very often is like any vehicle I've ever maneuvered. It can be old, new, shiny, or busted and there is always the potential for exactly that which I am experiencing currently.
The job is new and exciting, exactly the right direction for everything you've dreamed of. The new friends are inviting you to meet their friends, you're exploring a new area with them, and it seems your friends living 2,000 miles away just might even visit. There is free food at least once a week, making the measly salary seem OK.
And then you start to see and hear the wheels shaking. You wonder if you'll be able to manage the rent, food, gas, car expenses, health insurance, and afford any social activities. The job stress is following you to the gym, making you obsessive with checking your emails and wondering if you're doing enough to prove yourself as the new kid. Those new friends seem to have other friends and not be too interested in inviting you places and you wonder how long you will be the outsider in the new town.
The wheels are to the point of falling off and every day feels like a challenge to bare-handedly hold them on, building calluses, strength and character that I just hope to have an opportunity to use in my new life. I wonder if I'll see the day when I have it all under control or if it will always just be a balance between all the tires, and I just have to hope I'll get more tires and better maintenance to spread the wear and tear out. Driving an 18-wheeler isn't what I had in mind at Career Day, but they don't seem too phased when their tires explode on the highway.
By the way, that's another irrational tire fear of mine - that my Honda's tire will shred and blow up OR that the trans-America truck I'm passing will burst a tire as I pass it on the interstate. I might be paranoid, but life has made me this way.
With my current car, my beloved 1997 green whip and actually any other car I've ever driven, I have an irrational fear of tire issues. I often circle my car before leaving the grocery store just to make sure everything looks alright. Flats or just losing the tire entirely. The first issue I ever had with a car, my first call to AAA, was due to my tire being torn off the side of the wheel when I was pulled out of a snowy ditch during a blizzard with the high school boyfriend, becoming a mean, burnt up flat tire as I drove to Sugarloaf. Upon arrival in Park City a few weeks ago, I had a sound grating and whining from what turned out to be a wheel bearing needing replacing.
And then there is just life. The part of life where you're going along smoothly, feeling like you might just have the ducks in a line, that people respect and value you, you've attained a job or at least a life that you feel is at the very least acceptable, and things are alright. The greatest problem with such a situation is it very often is like any vehicle I've ever maneuvered. It can be old, new, shiny, or busted and there is always the potential for exactly that which I am experiencing currently.
The job is new and exciting, exactly the right direction for everything you've dreamed of. The new friends are inviting you to meet their friends, you're exploring a new area with them, and it seems your friends living 2,000 miles away just might even visit. There is free food at least once a week, making the measly salary seem OK.
And then you start to see and hear the wheels shaking. You wonder if you'll be able to manage the rent, food, gas, car expenses, health insurance, and afford any social activities. The job stress is following you to the gym, making you obsessive with checking your emails and wondering if you're doing enough to prove yourself as the new kid. Those new friends seem to have other friends and not be too interested in inviting you places and you wonder how long you will be the outsider in the new town.
The wheels are to the point of falling off and every day feels like a challenge to bare-handedly hold them on, building calluses, strength and character that I just hope to have an opportunity to use in my new life. I wonder if I'll see the day when I have it all under control or if it will always just be a balance between all the tires, and I just have to hope I'll get more tires and better maintenance to spread the wear and tear out. Driving an 18-wheeler isn't what I had in mind at Career Day, but they don't seem too phased when their tires explode on the highway.
By the way, that's another irrational tire fear of mine - that my Honda's tire will shred and blow up OR that the trans-America truck I'm passing will burst a tire as I pass it on the interstate. I might be paranoid, but life has made me this way.
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