A Glimpse into the Mind…

I should be packing. Though packing is the bane of my existence, and just thinking of that action causes my brain to melt down into a puddle of goo, just so I don’t have to face the horrible stabbing death that is packing.

So let me share with you what happens when my brain shuts off… Among my errands today, I dropped my car off for an oil change and a tire rotation. When I was forced to get new tires or fail inspection in a few months, I was told to come back within 5,000 miles and I’d get a free rotation. So, fearful of what would happen after 5,000 miles, I went in. I was actually proud of myself, since I was at a not-very-close 4,756 miles.

While rummaging in my wallet for my free oil change card, I noticed that my social security card seemed awful thin. It took a second, but then I realized it was so thin because I usually had my license in front of it. I started panicking and perhaps swearing a little, and I got a free oil change, even though I didn’t find my card. (Bonus points for being crazy!) But that still left the problem of where my license was.

I tried retracing my steps in my head while Ethan and I walked across the street for lunch. My first theory was that when I took my license out to buy car insurance this week, I must have put it back with my checkbook. I was full of relief, until I looked there and couldn’t find it.

Then I remembered that I used it to cash a check on Saturday. Oh yay! But that would mean I left it at the bank, and the teller there wasn’t too bright. So he probably threw it away. By now I’m full of rage and indignation and ready to call the bank and yell at them, only I can’t find my cell phone. Dammit, I probably left that in the car.

Ethan and I begin walking back to the shop, and my thoughts of righteous hellfire being rained down upon the bank were interrupted by the realization that, oh yeah, I gave my license to John to hold onto while we went out.

Yeah…. Sorry about that, bank.

And as an added bonus, the moment Ethan and I settled in at the garage, my purse started ringing. My phone had been in there the whole time, and John was calling to let me know he found my license.


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