So here's something fun that happened to me this morning.
I go out to my car to go to work. I'm parked on the street today, which is a hill, and I am facing down the hill. I notice when I get into my car that the car behind me is touching my bumper. I got home late last night, and I didn't think I hit this car when I was parallel parking, but hey, it was late, anything is possible. I take a look and neither car seems to be injured in any way.
So I get in my car, start it up, pull out just a little while I'm double checking the street, and am startled when the car behind me hits me again.
And I realize that I didn't hit the car when I parked last night, it hit me. I get out and look in the car, which is a brand new Honda Civic Hybrid, still with temporary tags. It is a standard shift and is clearly sitting in neutral, and the parking brake has been pulled up, but obviously not far enough. And the only thing keeping this car from rolling down the street and causing all kinds of death and destruction is my car.
So I knock on a few doors, looking for the owner, but no one is home, because it is after 9:00 in the morning and every reasonable person who can afford a Civic Hybrid is at work. I go back to my own house and call the police to explain my rather bizarre situation. They promise to send someone.
I go back out to my car to wait. While I'm sitting there, I get a brainstorm and call the dealership that issued the temporary tag. I talk to one of the finance guys and he finally figures out whose car it is, but he won't give me the person's name or phone number. He says he'll call her and give her my number.
In the meantime, the police show up, a man and a woman, who assess the situation and praise me endlessly for not leaving. (Okay, I appreciated that, but seriously, who would actually leave? I mean, really, would you be able to pull out and then just watch as a driverless car careens down the street, picking up speed? The least it would do is trash the car itself, and probably someone else's parked car as well, if not, like, an oncoming motorist or pedestrian. Who would let that happen?) They have no way of getting into the car, so they radio for a tow truck.
Eventually a guy in an animal control van shows up, Slim Jim in hand, and spends five minutes trying to unlock the driver's side door, but he can't get it. The female cop says something along the lines of "Here, give me that" and has the passenger side open in about twenty seconds. She climbs in and pulls the hand brake, I pull away a couple of inches to test it, and the car stays put. Woo! I give them my name and phone number and finally, finally go to work.
A couple of hours later, my cell phone rings, and it is the owner of the car, calling to thank me for not leaving and to make sure my car wasn't damaged, which it wasn't. We chat for a few minutes and she tells me that she actually was home (if I had knocked on two more doors, I would have found her) and that she's taking the car into the dealership to discuss the hand brake failure and the fact that the car alarm never went off during the entire time the police were trying to break into it.
Aside from earning some Good Samaritan brownie points today, I also learned a lesson, because I too drive a standard shift car and you're always supposed to park on a hill by (1) putting it in gear and (2) turning the wheels into the curb, neither of which I ever do.
It is snowing out right now, the first snow of the year. It makes me happy.
I go back and forth, every day.
You know, within the day itself.
At any given point, I can practically see it, feel it. The other side. The relief, the release. There is only a thin curtain, a sheer veil, holding me back.
And the next moment, it can be gone, just like that, like it was never even there, and I'm lost again.
It's the end of the year. My birthday is in fifteen days. Reflection, where I've been, where I'm going, what I've learned.
I learned that I am weak. This isn't a surprise. Just hard to accept. I don't like thinking of myself as weak.
I learned that I am jealous. This was a surprise, as I've never thought of myself as a jealous person before, but it turns out, I am. Crazy, heart-wrenching, hair-tearing jealous. (Of what? Of who? It doesn't matter. Anyone. Everyone. Whoever has what I don't. Whoever has someone to come home to at night. Whoever has someone who misses them when they don't. Everyone who matters to someone else, who has someone who needs them, and whom they need. Everyone who has a job with health care. Everyone who has a mortgage. Everyone who has a dog. Everyone who has made something of their lives by the age of 32. It ravages me sometimes, the jealousy.)
I learned that AA's definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. (I heard this on The West Wing. It took my breath away. Sagittarians are ridiculously slow learners. We are de facto insane.)
I learned some good things, too. I'm sure I did. The shameless wallowing makes it hard to remember them, but I will. Just not tonight.