It dawned on me in a flash today that I don’t handle stress very well. Nope, not at all.
I was an anxious little girl, teenager, young adult, and now I am a middle-aged whackjob.
Doubt me? Here, let me show you.
My best friend, my daughter and I went to go check out a minivan that just came in as a trade today at a used Chevy dealership this morning. The salesman was very nice to us yesterday, and told me he would call me this morning about another car that we had been looking at the previous day. He didn’t have a price for it, and the used car manager was off.
That one was out of our price range, because I am poor and have gnarly credit. We were looking at no more than $1,800. He treated us with respect and understanding. I just wanted a POS (piece of shit.) Something that can get me to the drugstore, teach the kid how to drive this summer, and off to the doctors without needing to procure a ride from someone else. That gets old really fast. My husband has my 2004 Kia now, because his old Toyota took a dump last year.
I needed a set of wheels so I could blow this pop stand when I had the mind to. We bought it, $1500. out the door, tax and title. It’s a 2005 Chevy Venture. The salesman Barry was upfront with us, it needed brake pads and something was askew with the power steering. Yet, other than that and a bit of rust (okay, and a duct tapped bumper, you can barely see it,) a decent car for the price.
I’ve always wanted a minivan.
My husband can do the brake pads, so cool. Half done as I type. C’s husband can help hubs fix the steering wheel, we just need to find a good time for everyone.
It’ll all come together eventually.
I should be ecstatic, and I really am happy about it. That is the truth.
But I have been a nervous fucking wreck all day. I worry about everything, all of the time. I am always in some state of concern, but today has been unreal.
I suppose it doesn’t help that my legs are killing me. I can barely sit still in my chair. I had to be with the program today, so I didn’t take any of my usual “life experiencing” aids. Add a bunch of walking the day before, and we have a limpy me.
You know, when I feel like I am out of control of a situation, which I often am now, I tweak out. It seems to have a mind of its own, and before I know it, I am looking for a brown bag to blow into.
I will just end this post with a meme.