My streak is over. I have gone for months and not broken, permanently damage, injured or otherwise harmed myself or others. However, I suffer from the same monthly weakness that all women everywhere are afflicted with and throw in no sleep and a tiff with the hubby and I am officially dangerous.
Last Saturday I got up early to go work at the produce co-op I am a member of. The trade off for helping is that you get to have an extra piece of fruit or a veggie. The work is invigorating especially because it is the cheapest way to buy produce and you feel so darn good about it. The price is amazing and I revel in frugality.
My son and I got into our van and I started pulling out and realized too late that I had parked over a little too much to the left. It is amazing how you can normally use multiple parts of your body at one time. But, when you realize you are going to do something wrong your commitment to isolate the offending body part seems to increase to really drive the point home that damage will be done. In this case it was my foot on the gas pedal. I knew I was too close yet I punched it harder and went even faster out of the garage so as to ensure maximum damage. I am not sure what came over me but it was probably panic.
My side mirror made a shatter crunch noise and my son looked at me like he was bracing for me to really loose it. I figured there were worse things going on in the world than me cracking the frame on my mirror so I said, "CRAP!" and sat there for a minute before we went on our way. I looked at him and reminded him that it is just a mirror and things like this happen. There is only so much time in this life and I choose not to devote any more of it to this particular incident. I am happy to say that it was a good lesson for me to teach my son. You have to pick your battles and decide what you are going to devote energy too. I can't go back in time and fix the mirror but I can move forward and when we have the money, repair it.
After examining the mirror more closely, I noticed I was able to click it back together and you can't really tell there is a crack there now. Hurray for small miracles. The garage door is not damaged either. So how do I prevent another one of these incidents? You may think it is don't drive large vehicles when I am crazed to begin with, but I think the take away is simply slow down and pay attention.
I casually told my husband later that day and then quickly walked away. I figured if I acted like I didn't care, then maybe he wouldn't either. It is like ripping off a bandaid, you have to be quick. He cared, but I wasn't there to witness how much. He hasn't mentioned it at all since so I figure the issue is officially dead.
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