This morning, I woke up in a great mood. Which is saying something, because I am definitely not a morning person and perpetually feel as though I haven't had enough sleep no matter what time I went to bed the night before. I fixed my daughter's lunch, started the car early to warm up, then bundled all of the kids up and headed toward Teagan's school.
It wasn't apparent until I hit the main road. Then I heard a constant grinding sound and felt my car's obvious struggle on the road, I briefly wondered if we were about to be suddenly engulfed in a fireball. At the first side street I could find I pulled in and parked in front of an elderly care center...another car pulled in right after me and I reconsidered my stopping location. I didn't want to be seen by anybody in my bra-less state, wearing plaid pajama pants with Walmart clog shoes and a lopsided ponytail. But then I said "eff it" and got out to assess the vehicle. I had hoped for something simple, like ice stuck over the wheels. But as I made my way around to the other side of the car, the problem was quickly evident: a flat tire.
"Oh shit." I stood and stared at it for a moment, then looked around at the houses of the neighborhood, willing a friendly neighbor out to solve the problem for me...trailer park fashion statement be damned. I have never dealt with this in my life. It was cold. I was in my pajamas. I had no gloves. Even if I KNEW how to change a tire, it would be impossible to do so in this temperature without at least gloves.
So I did what any self-respecting person in a crisis does: I cried for my mommy. I got back in the car and speed-dialed my mom, waking her up at 6AM her time in Arizona. "I have a crisis!" I explained. I broke down in tears. "I don't know what to do!" I had asked if I could drive back to my house on the flat tire. She advised me not to. But after we went through my possible options: "Do you have Triple A?" No. "Is there a gas station close?" Yes, but I don't have my cards or cash on me. "Do you know how to do it?" No, and it's freezing, and I'm wearing my pajamas and I have no gloves.
We agreed that I must drive back home. I put on my hazard lights and crept along the main road back home, and felt victorious when I pulled back into my driveway.
But now I have different problems. I've been trying to get ahold of my mother-in-law all day long. To see if her AAA plan has the "help a friend" service...if she even has AAA anymore. Or find out if she knows anybody who can come over and help me. Or...at the very least, if she can help me since I have no idea what I'm doing.
I refuse to call a tow service or some other company. The last time I had somebody come over for emergency assistance, it was when I locked myself out of this house a week after signing the closing paperwork. I called a locksmith and that ended up costing me $67. SIXTY-SEVEN DOLLARS. For the man to drive down the street from their business location, and wiggle a wire in the door for literally 10 seconds. Frankly, I'm not excited about the idea of paying somebody to change my tire for me when the cost will most likely be equally astronomical.
And then, AND THEN, even when we do get a tire on, my worries still aren't over. The tire in the trunk is just a temporary. So this means that I get to go buy a new tire very soon. After Christmas, my wallet is still recovering from being beaten worse than a pinata filled with roofies at a frat party.
I'm afraid there is not going to be a completely happy resolution for this fiasco.
It wasn't apparent until I hit the main road. Then I heard a constant grinding sound and felt my car's obvious struggle on the road, I briefly wondered if we were about to be suddenly engulfed in a fireball. At the first side street I could find I pulled in and parked in front of an elderly care center...another car pulled in right after me and I reconsidered my stopping location. I didn't want to be seen by anybody in my bra-less state, wearing plaid pajama pants with Walmart clog shoes and a lopsided ponytail. But then I said "eff it" and got out to assess the vehicle. I had hoped for something simple, like ice stuck over the wheels. But as I made my way around to the other side of the car, the problem was quickly evident: a flat tire.
"Oh shit." I stood and stared at it for a moment, then looked around at the houses of the neighborhood, willing a friendly neighbor out to solve the problem for me...trailer park fashion statement be damned. I have never dealt with this in my life. It was cold. I was in my pajamas. I had no gloves. Even if I KNEW how to change a tire, it would be impossible to do so in this temperature without at least gloves.
So I did what any self-respecting person in a crisis does: I cried for my mommy. I got back in the car and speed-dialed my mom, waking her up at 6AM her time in Arizona. "I have a crisis!" I explained. I broke down in tears. "I don't know what to do!" I had asked if I could drive back to my house on the flat tire. She advised me not to. But after we went through my possible options: "Do you have Triple A?" No. "Is there a gas station close?" Yes, but I don't have my cards or cash on me. "Do you know how to do it?" No, and it's freezing, and I'm wearing my pajamas and I have no gloves.
We agreed that I must drive back home. I put on my hazard lights and crept along the main road back home, and felt victorious when I pulled back into my driveway.
But now I have different problems. I've been trying to get ahold of my mother-in-law all day long. To see if her AAA plan has the "help a friend" service...if she even has AAA anymore. Or find out if she knows anybody who can come over and help me. Or...at the very least, if she can help me since I have no idea what I'm doing.
I refuse to call a tow service or some other company. The last time I had somebody come over for emergency assistance, it was when I locked myself out of this house a week after signing the closing paperwork. I called a locksmith and that ended up costing me $67. SIXTY-SEVEN DOLLARS. For the man to drive down the street from their business location, and wiggle a wire in the door for literally 10 seconds. Frankly, I'm not excited about the idea of paying somebody to change my tire for me when the cost will most likely be equally astronomical.
And then, AND THEN, even when we do get a tire on, my worries still aren't over. The tire in the trunk is just a temporary. So this means that I get to go buy a new tire very soon. After Christmas, my wallet is still recovering from being beaten worse than a pinata filled with roofies at a frat party.
I'm afraid there is not going to be a completely happy resolution for this fiasco.
