As a follow-up to my last blog post, I thought it would be a good idea to write about my new job! Let’s just start with this: it’s awesome. I miss my dream team, but it’s a great place to work.
The only major issue is my insanely long commute. It feels like I’m taking the Oregon trail to the office every day. On the plus side, there are mad gun stores en route, so I could always shoot an oxen if I were ever stranded and starving. There’s also this random bike rental place in the middle of nowhere, which I’m pretty sure is meant as a courtesy in case your covered-wagon party of pioneers tips over in a stream and you’re dying of dysentery. Sometimes I’m tempted to park the car and rent a bike to get to work in one piece, meaning no more accidents. But, we have really great car and health insurance, which is awesome for me because otherwise I would have to trick myself out for a couple of Wellbutrin and a new fender.
Today began with a series of unfortunate events but turned into one of those ‘ain’t no body gonna bring me down’ kind of days. I feel like that’s a Tuesday thing for me, but that’s because I do weird shit, and weird shit always happens to me. It’s like the universe knows I’m inadvertently open to insanity. Either way, I thought it would be fun to fill you in on the details. Keep in mind that these are luxury problems, not real-life ones like famine or war or systemic racism. I’m just another privileged American bitching about privileged American bullshit.
I left my house early today, JUST in case there was traffic or something crazy (aka normal) happened during my two-hour commute. I took a bunch of remote back roads with no cell service and almost hit a turtle that was trying to cross the street. As I looked back in my rear-view mirror, the turtle in the road became smaller and smaller. Then, a truck almost ran him over. Of course, I had to turn around to help him out because there was no way in hell he was making it to the other side in one piece. As I walked to the middle of the street, a bus came pummeling around the corner, almost hitting me and the turtle. I wasn’t sure what kind of turtle he was, but I knew I had to move him. I reached down and said a silent prayer that he wasn’t the kind of turtle that would take off my finger. Fortunately, he wasn’t. I looked him up on the Google, and it turns out he’s a regular box turtle. It also turns out that they’re adorable.
After I carried him to the other side of the street, I realized I would have to climb the world’s steepest embankment, overgrown with weeds and trees and ticks and who knows what the fuck else. So, naturally, I took off my blazer and scaled the muddy hill. Thank God I had a change of clothes in the car. I released the turtle on solid ground and slid back down the hill, covered in dirt and spurs.
After saving the life of one lucky box turtle, I realized I was running out of time, and I still had to change clothes. I drove until I reached civilization and then pulled into a Royal Farms near Jarrettsville, MD. I parked the car behind a dumpster (rookie mistake) so I could quickly—and quietly—change into a new outfit. Just as I removed my pants, I heard a knock on my window. Hello officer. All of these thoughts were racing through my mind, like fuck me, I might be late for work on my second day, and holy shit he’s going to arrest me for indecent exposure, and I’ll have to register as a sex offender. But, then I rolled down my window, and he burst out laughing.
First thought: is he seriously laughing at my half-naked body? Second thought: maybe he’s overcome with joy at having met his monthly sex-offender quota. But, then I found out why he was actually laughing. You see, he and I had found ourselves in a similar situation once before—20 years ago. Between the laughter and the tears running down his face, he asked me if I remembered him. I didn’t remember him, at all, but here’s what he said, “I came over to see why you were parked behind the dumpster. You were bent down, so it looked like you were getting high. Then, I saw your face and realized what was going on.” I was still baffled by the whole thing and secretly hoping he had me confused with someone else. Judges don’t take kindly to second-time offenders.
But, then he refreshed my memory. His name is Sean, and we went to school together. It was my SECOND DAY (oh, the irony) at a new high school, and I had to change into my gym uniform. I was in a rush, mad dashing to the locker room so I wouldn’t be late. As I started removing my clothes, he walked in. I had, in my haste, entered the boy’s locker room and started stripping before I was caught by the exact same guy who was standing before me today. Now, a Harford County police officer, he said he remembered me as soon as he saw my “face”. Sean let me go, but warned me that changing clothes in public is never a good idea. Point taken. Twice. Some people never learn.
By the time I was back on the road, I was in the throes of a full-on panic attack. It seemed impossible that I would make it to work on time. And, I couldn’t use “A high school friend who also happens to be a cop caught me half-naked in a royal farms parking lot after I saved a turtle in the middle of the road and climbed a muddy hill” as an excuse. Even so, the GPS indicated that as long as I had no more mishaps, I would still make it to work on time.
As I was nearing the end of my horrible awful shitty commute, I had to yield to oncoming traffic at a busy intersection. The lady in front of me was completely stopped, meaning she either can’t read or forgot what yield means. I was stuck sitting behind this lady, cursing at her under my breath—just saying some real mean awful stuff—when suddenly I felt a bang. Oh, yes. Another car hit me from behind. I just got my car back after an incident that was my fault, and less than a week later, I’m in another freaking accident.
At that point I was so defeated; I called my boss and told him what happened. The car accident was a better excuse than turtles and partial nudity. It was an easy accident because the guy who hit me was very nice, and we have the same insurance. He gave me his information, admitted fault, and I was on my way. I even gave him a hug…to help make both of our days a little better.
After the car accident, I got back in my vehicle and made my way to work. Somehow, someway, by the grace of God, I walked into that office at 8:30…not a minute early, not a minute late. I suppose I have a lot to be thankful for today.
- I didn’t kill the turtle
- No one else killed the turtle
- The bus didn’t run me over
- My wagon didn’t tip over, and I didn’t die from dysentery
- I wasn’t arrested for indecent exposure
- That car accident was NOT my fault.
- I still got my ass to work on time today.
I think I may be invincible. There’s no good way to end this post without a long, drawn out, moral-of-the-story conclusion, so I will just end it with this little gem.
I found a text message conversation that LB saved from a while ago…one that always makes me feel good whenever I re-read it. The screen shot is from her phone, so her texts are in blue and mine are in grey. Just in case you’re wondering which one of us has all the answers AND all the car accidents, it’s me. Everyone knows I’m the liability is in this relationship.
…perfectly natural, perfectly normal.