Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Hitting Milestones

Or, in this case, mile light poles. The clock radio didn't turn on this morning and the alarm cat didn't see fit to get us up till it was too late for my husband to catch the bus, so I took him in. After dropping him off, I turned the corner I always turn - and which I'm a little proud of my ability to turn, since Moby Dick has a turning radius the size of Kansas, yet on this turn I can always stay in my own lane - and my water bottle rolled out, thumped against my leg, and the reflexive flinch, to my surprise, extended to my arm, which kept turning us until we met the light pole.

No injuries, nobody behind me to be inconvenienced, as accidents go not a big deal. I even drove away, though without much clearance on the tire and the front passenger door won't open anymore. But it's my first accident ever. Unless you count that time I misjudged my distance from an SUV in the parking lot, which neither I nor the SUV's owner did - Moby is so low compared to his opponent on that occasion that they met at the tangent of two planes.

It ate up the rest of the day. I didn't eat breakfast till nine, by which time on a normal day I should have a load in the laundry, all my comics, blogs, and newsgroups read, and a room dusted and swept. No library in the afternoon, because I was waiting on the body shop, getting a damaged tire replaced, and so on. And now I find I'm all shaky and mood-swingy, which I didn't have time for before.

I'm sure there's a moral here somewhere. Or a metaphor. I don't know what it might be. So onto the compost heap of experience it goes, to rot down into something useful with every other milestone in my life.

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