Friday, May 24, 2013
Funny story: My car died in the Jimmy John's drive-thru yesterday. I had just ordered a sub sandwich, low fat potato chips and iced tea. I turned the key - and nothing happened. Frantic, I pounded on the glass drive-thru window and told the Jimmy John's guy that I couldn't move my car because I couldn't turn it on.
"OK," said the dude. "I'll send out a couple guys to help ya."
Imagine how humiliated I was when the sandwich-making crew had to help me push my car to the side of the parking lot, out of the other patrons' ways. I sat in my car, wrinkled my nose at the bag of food (I was much too wigged out to eat) and tried to think about what I should do. Luckily, it was only 11:30 a.m. but still, I had to be back at the office before 1 p.m. to greet my new social media intern on her first day. And I had to move the car. And buy a battery, apparently.
Brian showed up with jumper cables, and, once we started my car up, I bought a battery - which I paid an arm and leg for - and griped about my rotten day while I waited for the installation to be completed.
"Today sucks so far," I groaned, not caring who heard me. "I'm so sick of worrying about money."
But, I made it back to the office well before 1 p.m. and did a stellar job of orienting my social media intern plus the new design intern. And I got to thinking how much worse the car breakdown situation could have been. I mean, I could have broken down someplace far worse than the parking lot of a sub shop with a yummy lunch already in my clutches. I could have been in a bigger hurry and missed my appointments. I could have had bigger problems than just the battery.
I have this friend who sometimes texts encouraging messages around 7 a.m. while I'm brewing coffee. (He gets up roughly two hours before that, so it's easy for him to think of stuff.) Yesterday's message said something like: "Get ready for a wondrous and magical day."
It took me a while to admit that anything about yesterday could be remotely close to that description, but I think I'm fine with it now. After all, it felt kind of like magic, having those sandwich guys nudge my silent car to a safe place so easily, it was like wings had sprouted from her blue doors.