You've seen 'em. But have you fallen trap to the potholes in your life? I am talking figuratively and literally here. It has been two weeks and the real life pothole I hit still haunts me and my car. With the holiday season I feel I am hitting a lot of potholes. I have tried to throw on a smile, count my blessings, and hope for better. But sometimes you need a moment to acknowledge and even yell at the pothole. The pothole caused me stress in several ways. I was driving to work early. Which right there tends to not work in my favor. We had been told to come in an hour and half late. I figured I could at least be on time if not a tish early. I am driving down the interstate. Go to switch lanes as I am not a right lane driver. And as I begin to accelerate to switch lanes, I check my blind spot only to turn in enough time to see my car is about to hit a huge pothole. I have enough time to tense my body and see the pothole but not enough to react. Ker-PLUNK. Oh no. Please Onyx the Smokemobile be okay. Please. PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! Okay all tires still moving three seconds past the kerplunk. Maybe just maybe I can breathe normally again. Oh no here comes the exclamation point light with a loud series of beeps. This means my car is upset with my choice and needs pronto care. I have accepted in this world there are three topics that my brain does not compute. I have accepted and try to avoid the topics. You can use kindergarten language and I will not comprehend possibly my ignorance, possibly my stubbornness. Those three topics are : Directions (I married a human compass), Computers(Ironic as I do data entry for my job), and Cars (sad because I have had lots of car problems in my lifetime). So when my car yells at me. I pull over on the INTERSTATE. Because this doesn't happen on a nice quiet suburb street with speed limits of 25 mph. But where the speed limit is 60 and you know people are passing me at 80 mph easily. I scoot over my car seat to examine my tires. What am I looking for? I have no idea. A huge gash, I touch the tires firmness, kick a few and climb back into my car to call my husband and cry. This is how I handle car problems. I used to call my dad but now with my mature age I call my spouse. I am thinking of any way in the world he could handle this problem and I could be on my way to work. In less than a year I have had to call my work and explain my abscence/tardiness on car problems at least three maybe four times. All true. But still how understanding can my company be? But my hubby convinces me to put on my big girl britches and get the car to the tire place. However with my crying and procrastinating the tire has begun to leak. I now officially have a flat tire as I find out as I start driving on the interstate. I beg for the car to hold on. As I slowly descend on the front driver side. As I wait at the stop light at the first available exit ramp where the tire place is located I feel my car slowly shift down. Even a fellow driver lowers his window to offer his expertise that my tire is indeed flat. I nod with my teary eyes and he thumbs ups me. Good I am glad our exchange has warranted a thumbs up. I felt like a hand gesture as well but as I had a death grip on the steering wheel in determined prayer and hope that the car will just last to the car place. I reach my destination (thank you GPS for your assistance). I grab my tire consultant. He escorts me to my car and asks if I was using my spare but he was able to answer his own question. Thank goodness as my eyes already moisten over with my lack of knowledge. Did I just hurt my tire which we have a lifetime guarnantee as we have had three nails in the tire issue again in under a year (thanks neighbors for all getting your roofs redone!) Oh no I damaged two rims pretty severely and as they can't match the rims exactly we might want to purchase four new rims. Oh goody. Stupid pothole! He helps me and in ten days the tires worked well. I was a little late for work but life went on. But starting Thanksgiving. We hear this rubbing, colliding, tumbling sound from the rear tire. We take it in to the tire shop not once but twice. The experts hear nothing. To me and my husband it sounds like we are about to lose the wheel on left handed turns and big bumps in the road. I could probably drive it to work but I am opting for the older truck (1995 vs 2008). I don't think work would appreciate a fourth call pertaining to vehichle issues. And I am not willing to risk my safety on two different interstates with the mystery sound. Stupid pothole! So you have hear my literal pothole issue.
Let's discuss those figurative potholes. Those food temptations that are too powerful to ignore. Those emotional triggers that cause rash reactions. Those stressful issues that overload positive actions. Those demanding unexpected bills that require as much attention as the routine bills. And illness that renders daily schedules and lists useless. I have recently dealt with a cold but what was even more demanding of attention was my son's illness. My poor li'l guy. It's official he has dealt with his first illness and it was a doozy. A rising temp nearing a 104 degrees F (I was terrified as I touched the back of his neck and it burnt my hand), an ear infection, bronchialitis with major congestion and trouble keeping his milk down. Like I said poor guy. With my cold and my pothole I was mustering through what I could. But shut down the world when my son got sick. He gained my whole attention and everything else faded into the background. Another pothole.
Things are improving and thankfully my son is rebounding well. I have been beating myself up over the backward steps and the non movement forward on my healthfull journey. Playing the scenarios in my head of different choices I could have made in attempt of missing the potholes. Sure I could have missed some of them but in return I might have hit others even harder. I have to remind myself. The potholes happened. They can't be erased and more will appear. I can try to swerve but sometimes they can't be avoided. We have to deal with the repercussions and only once the mess is contained and handled can we press forward once again. So slowly I am evaluating my position. How many steps backward did I take? And how quickly can I get back to the journey?
May your healthFULL journey contain few potholes. But when it does I pray that you will gain strength, wisdom, and that you remain as unharmed as possible. 'Til we meet again . . .
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