Confessions Of A Crazy Woman
Over the weekend James and I noticed the side panel of the car is falling down AGAIN. He rigged it on the fly securing it back to the car.
So, here I am driving to work a few days later, and I hear this KKKRRKKKKGGHSKRRNNKK. I pull off the road certain I had a flat tire forgettign all about the car issue form this weekend.
NOPE, tires were fine. It was the dumb side panel dragging along on the ground; I’m sure the sparks were flying as I was zooming down the road! So here I am, at 5:30 a.m. on the back roads, of course. It’s pitch black outside, and I am kneeling on the ground fixing this stupid side panel.
The whole time I’m doing it I am cussing my husband…”THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!” I muttered it over and over again. Heck, I even screamed it a few times!
I thought, as I struggled to get the thing back on, “If you would have had this fixed when it first broke then I wouldn’t be on the side of the road trying not to die!” I found some random rope in the car and got it McGuyver-style. It was hanging on literally by a thread (of rope).
If he was up, I would have called him and said, “Can I yell at you because I am MAD at you. I know it isn’t your fault, but I don’t know what else to do so I am going to yell at you.” This is not abnormal for me to do something like this. So I can imagine what he’d say, “You are annoying…yes, go ahead and yell.” I would scream two sentences and be then done “yelling”. Ha!
The truth is, I am a 50 percent partner in our marriage, I drive the car half of the time, and I have fingers to call a body shop with. But in that moment – I wanted to be mad at someone — not at meeeee.