15 February 2006

Why I Should Not Be Allowed Behind the Wheel Today

Upon entering the parking lot at my work, I swerved into the curb by the library, putting a chip in my tire and severely scratching up my rim.

Upon backing out of a parking space at Starbuck's, I backed right into a Subaru Outback. How I missed a SUBARU OUTBACK that was RIGHT BEHIND ME is quite beyond me. Hmmm . . . other things on my mind? Luckily, no damage to either car, and the Outback driver was VERY understanding under the circumstances. Much damage to my fragile driving psyche.

Clearly I should not be allowed to drive a vehicle today, and yet I still need to drive home. And then to a friend's house later tonight. Cross your fingers for me.


Yankee T said...

Oh, dear. Be careful.

Dorcasina said...

I don't really know you well enough to tell this story, so please delete the comment if it offends you. My husband and I often joked that we needed special bumper stickers on our cars that said something like, "Approach with caution: my husband has cancer"--or "Caution:crazed spouse" or some more clever variation on that idea. There's something about extreme life stress--of which you have more than your share, my dear--that really affects one's ability for the mindless-but-observant tasks like driving. I often felt like Mr. Magoo, driving blithely onward, leaving crumpled fenders, honking motorists, and finger-wagging traffic cops in my wake.
Be safe.

Christine said...

Brainy drivers tend to be "bad" drivers in that their heads aren't completely concentrating on the task at hand. After many, many driving mishaps (and the associated high insurance rates), I had to train myself to be more focused on the task at hand, not in Christine-land, as my husband calls it. Throw in the life stress -- both good and bad -- you are experiencing, and no wonder you get a bit ditzy behind the wheel. Please be careful, and get off the road if you feel unsafe. People in the blogosphere care.

snickollet said...

Dorcasina, no offense taken at all. My husband and I often joke about his illness in a way that seems very inappropriate to people who aren't dealing with it every day. You just do what you can to get through it. Sometimes I wish I had a bumper sticker or a T-shirt or something that let people know what I was dealing with in the hopes that they'd think twice before being rude or nasty to me, or for those times I do silly things because my mind is elsewhere. It would be great for all those times part of me wants to scream, "My husband has terminal cancer. Would you please leave me alone!?" and just can't bring myself to do it.