Dearest Rachel –
The thing about yesterday’s synchronicity of inconveniences is that life rarely works out so well (even in the midst of not working out so well); that’s really why I wrote to you about it, because it was so unusual. Not only were each of the main issues out of the ordinary, but their combination – as well as the fact that they coordinated such that taking care of one would facilitate taking care of the other – made the whole situation something worth relating to you, hopefully for your amusement.
But everything eventually regresses to the mean, and this is one of those days.
A quick bit of backstory, first. The additional issues with my car that were discovered by the service team at the dealership may have made me feel like I was (and still am) being upsold on this and that item that also happens to need attention, but since I’m not a car guy, I find myself forced to defer to them as the experts. So, the wheel rim and the tires were replaced yesterday, but they still needed a part or two to complete the work on the brakes and control rod (or whatever it was called). No big deal; I’d already planned to stay home today, as Kris would be coming over to clean, so it’s not like I needed the machine. Besides, the girls were over last night (apart from Kerstin – Erin offered to drive her, but the situation with her car has gotten worse since last I told you about it. I think she needed a mental health night; she claimed she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the evening even if she came with), which turned into a longer night than usual. But hey, for me, sleeping in only gets me to six or seven as it is; there’d be no harm in compelling myself to do at least that.
And I did manage to sleep a little later, in part, thanks to staying up that much later (honestly, the girls did try, after watching three episodes, to call it a night and head home, and eventually they did – several stories and an hour and a half later). But upon waking up at six-thirty, I was greeted by a text message from Kris. It seems that her mother had suffered an accident at home, and needed to be rushed to the ER. We’ve been here – or more to the point, you’ve been here, in particular – so you understand. And, since I’ve no set schedule, I can live with this change of plan.
Although, this left me with a minor dilemma. I no longer had a reason to stay home, but I’d already informed the folks that I would – and in any event, I had no means of transportation in order to go anywhere in any case… apart from my feet, of course. Still, they tend to have as flexible a schedule as I do, and something of an open-door policy with regard to my coming and going. With sufficient warning (say, a few minutes while I’m making my way there), I expected that they would have no objection to my hiking over there until I received word from the dealership that my car was all fixed and ready to be picked up. Why, Dad might jump (well, as vigorously as a man his age can) at the chance to get out of the house and driving his car to get me there.
It seemed like a perfect plan – apart from the fact that I felt compelled to shower this morning regardless, as I’d missed doing so yesterday (thinking I might walk home from the ‘office’). Walking, even relatively early in the morning, rather cancels out the effects of washing up like that. Oh, well. I’m sure I need the exercise, even if I’ve already been losing a half-pound a day starting with the weekend without any; a single heavy meal would wipe out all of those relatively small gains (actually, it’s a surprise that the pizza last night didn’t – I guess that, with enough people to divide it among, I can have my portions controlled for me).
And then, as I was assembling a quick breakfast for myself prior to setting out, the phone rang. It was the dealership – and while I hesitate to say ‘already,’ since it had been nearly twenty-six hours at this point, I’d reconfigured my plans for the day under the assumption that this wouldn’t happen until mid-afternoon, like yesterday. This was going to put yet another crimp in things. So much for getting a walk in.
Then again, imagine if I’d left the house and gotten a few blocks away, or even was wandering through the alfresco district when I got the call, with no easy way to quickly turn back or press forward. It would be a while before I could get up there and get the car out of hock.
Of course, just because I was up, about and at home didn’t mean I could just head out and collect the car; I needed a ride there… which meant waiting for Daniel to get up. I had a bit more breakfast while I waited… possibly too much. Granted, a couple of slices of toast with chocolate spread isn’t a full Irish fry breakfast, but still…
Anyway, he eventually did wake up, and once I told him about the phone call, he was happy to help out, if only to get me out of the house in order to listen to his podcasts and whatnot on his own (Now that I think about it, I don’t even recall having filled him in on the fact that Kris wasn’t going to be there until Thursday. Well, it’s not like he asked…). Ironically, we had to stop and get one of his tires filled up; the one by his door looked all but flat by the time we hobbled into a filling station (although it still registered 15 psi, much like my own every-other-day fillings). And since it’s not made by the some manufacturer as mine, it wasn’t as if we could swap it out to have the tire replaced at the dealership. Maybe we’ll just have to keep an eye on it, and see what happens over the next couple of weeks, before we decide whether to get that tire replaced; it’s not like I saw a nail in the thing, nor is the wheel rim cracked.
And while we keep an eye on that, please keep an eye on the two of us, honey. Oh, and wish us luck; we’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 