Bad Driver

Bad Driver

Hi! Iím back. I know I havenít posted in a while, but Iíve been busy being a dutiful wife and taking care of Tiger. If you believe that one, you donít know me that well. Heís the one that has to take care of me.

Lately, Iíve been going through some traumatic ďdriving experiences.Ē It has gotten to the point where last night I even admitted that Iím a bad driver. It started with minor incidents like me running over Tigerís feet at least 10 times daily (heís actually had to get steel toed boots). Then, there are the nicks and bruises on my fingers, hands, and arms. WellÖ those have always been there.

Anyway, several weeks ago, I planned to go to Wal-Mart on a Saturday. I wasnít really looking forward to the whole experience. Tiger had a meeting, so he couldnít go with me, so I had to face the crowd alone. When I go to Wal-Mart on Saturdays, I have to strain not to injure the children and other people that try to run over me. This particular Saturday happened to be COLD and freezing rain/ snow was coming down when I started my roll/walk to the bus stop. I didnít realize the extent of the weather until I had rolled off of the ramp onto the driveway. At this point, I considered going back inside and calling off the trip or taking a cab, but I decided that I probably wouldnít be able to get up the ramp again, and the weather really wasnít that bad, so I continued on. I started down my street in the right direction. This path wasnít new to me, but somehow, after the first intersection, I turned the wrong way or something. The sun wasnít out, so I lost track of which direction I was going, and I actually know which way is east, west, north, and south. I didnítí really know where I had come from, so I decided to keep going. Soon I heard traffic, which probably meant I was very close to the bus stop, but first, of course, I had to cross the street. I waited and waited for an opportunity to cross the street, but that day there were just tons of cars. Apparently, for people who were inside their warm cars, the weather wasnít that bad, and they were probably making their way to Wal-Mart. So as I was waiting, and freezing, I heard a rumbling motor noise on the other side of the street. Yeah, it was the bus and it kept driving past. At this point, my hands were stiff (because I hate to wear gloves), my coat was soaked, and there was no way I felt even remotely like shopping. The next challenge however was hmmÖ how do I get home. I was not really on the street that I should be. I knew one of the streets, but I didnít know the other. At this point, I called Tiger because somehow, it was his fault. I didnít know what I thought he could do. He was at a meeting, and he couldnít get a signal. Even if I contacted him, how was I going to tell him my exact location, when I wasnít exactly sure, but I just had to call, so I left a panicked voicemail. Then, I headed back. However, the street I was on turned, and I actually realized I didnít want to turn because I could kind of tell what direction I was going. I went back to the corner. Oh, and by this time I was really praying. I had been before, but I thought I could do it by myself. After wandering around on the street and leaving numerous frantic voicemails for my husband, someone stopped and told me what one of the streets was, so I got started going home. I was going fast partly out of fear that I was freezing to death and partly out of frustration at Tiger, and I wasnít really paying attention. Swoosh! My shoe was filled with water. I had run straight through a giant mud puddle, yet another indication of my driving abilities. Finally at long last, after what seemed like hours, I was going up the driveway. Now, all I had to do was get up the ramp. I thought how ironic it would be if I made it home and froze in my own driveway. I eventually got up the ramp and went inside. Fortunately for him, Tiger was not at home.

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