It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...
Tuesday, November 03, 2015
Forgive me Spark, for I have...not exactly sinned but have been focused on things other than weight loss.. it has been three months since my last confession... er, entry.
My last two weeks have been a rollercoaster. Two weeks ago I slammed into a deer and did some crunchy damage to my beloved Grand Am. Missed a day of work to get my car towed to my insurance company's inspection place and to talk to four or five different insurance reps about what happened... this is not the first deer accident, nor the worst. This is the third, and the second was the worst damage by far. Imagine having to drive 5 miles home with your head out the window like Ace Ventura because your windshield is just a mess of shatter lines. In February. In Michigan. *snort*
My rental was a 2015 Chrysler 200, which was like sitting in a spaceship cockpit with all the dials and digital insanity... but I LOVED it. And it was TARDIS blue. ^_^
Car is a total loss, due to age and mileage... the reps were impressed that I'd racked up 254000 plus miles on that bad boy. We went everywhere; Key West and back, Arkansas and back multiple times, Detroit and back multiple times, and 8 years of back and forth to work at 50 ish miles a day... drove the doors off. They're sending a check as soon as I release the car and send in my title. It rained the day I fetched my plate and released the car. The heavens cried for me so I didn't have to.
Last friday I bought a car. Same as my rental, but black. Took it for a test drive, felt comfortable, felt confident, felt nothing in my gut telling me to hold back. The buying process was smooth, my credit rocks, and I actually had a lot of fun. It helps that my mom has worked for this dealership for 20 years and once everyone knew I was her kid I was treated like family (which included mom's "work husband" feigning a fit because I didn't come to him first, and me retorting with "Ya snooze ya lose, bruh!"). I picked up the car that night, and it was great fun... until this morning.
This morning... I was on my way to work before the sun was up this morning... and I was almost to my exit when the car lost power and left me abandoned on the side of the road. Wouldn't accelerate, engine light on, dash info telling me to put the car in park as I was coasting at 60... I pulled over, turned the car off... and it wouldn't restart. The rest of my day included waking the boyfriend up for a rescue, having a panic attack that left me vomiting into the weeds on the roadsite, getting the car back to the dealership where my mom threw a fit only to find out that they couldn't fix what's wonky and I have to drive it to another dealership in another town for a repair... so I'm missing yet another day of work when I really cannot afford to. The boyfriend is off tomorrow so I'll be borrowing his car, Thursday I'm off, and Friday/Saturday we both work at the same time so I can hitch a ride into town with him. Sunday we're both off, and monday... I dunno what i'm going to do.
That said... my salvage check arrived this morning as I was napping off my panic attack...
I don't know if anyone reading this has ever suffered a panic attack... but they're nothing light. I cry, hard. I hyperventilate, which is awful because I already have asthma. Nothing you say or do can make me stop crying, stop freaking out; I have to get to a safe place and ride it out. Last time I had one... january... I was sitting on the floor in front of my boyfriend, curled into a ball, keening, hyperventilating, rocking back and forth, shaking, and I couldn't stop. He was gently untangling me from my knot, smoothing my hair, just reminding me to try to breathe and to just focus on his voice. He ended up calling in to work for me, putting me to bed, and just snuggling until the worst of it passed and I was able to sleep it off. This time was not so smooth. I know one means well when they say it could be worse, to cheer up, it's not that bad, etc... but it makes the attack worse because we KNOW these things and we CANNOT HELP OURSELVES. Just like someone with depression isn't magically cured when you tell them to snap out of it, just think happy thoughts... I cannot pull myself out of a panic by someone telling me to calm down and bootstrap up. I was so angry with myself and angry with the situation and upset that i couldn't stop that I ended up throwing up into the weeds along the roadside. Violently. I'm already congested from allergies, then from crying, now I'm barfing. Yay.
So, after I napped and had lunch and watched way too much Doctor Who, I got a wee bit bootstrappy with myself. I strapped on my sneakers and my SPAT; threw my wallet, keys, water bottle, and salvage check into a messenger bag, and began the walk to my bank. I was estimating it to be about a 4 mile round trip; not bad in the scheme of things. Plus, I get to take the spiffy bike path that will make it a straight shot. Up the road about two blocks to the crosswalk, I sprinted when it was safe to go, accidentally soaking my butt with water because my bottle wasn't closed properly... whoops.
Just before my bank's backyard there's a little pathway that leads off the bike path to the rear parking lot of the walk-in clinic, and there's a little walkway that goes from that lot to behind the itty bitty Wild Wings strip-mall that spits out into my bank's parking lot. It was a surprisingly delightful walk. Everything was a perfect temperature, leaves were still falling all around me, and the leaves underfoot were crisp and crunchy and I found myself shuffling through them like a little kid. :) One minute to deposit the salvage check and back out the door I go. Return trip felt like it took no time at all, and I even went around the backside of my block for extra distance. Remembered to properly latch my water bottle so no hiney-soakings this time.
I felt ready for another nap when I got back to my apartment... but I feel better now that I got out and stretched my legs. I racked up 4.3 miles and 8100 steps on my SPAT, so I have that going for me which is nice. :)
Tonight we fetch my (expensive paperweight) car and tomorrow we take it to the other dealership and get these issues taken care of.
Anyway, the whole point of this (ridiculous and long) story was to talk about my delightful walk... we're in "Indian Summer" right now so it's the best parts of Autumn's scents and sounds with Summer's warmth... and that I'm kicking off a 6th month jaunt to May to try to get to 150 or better. 130 is what would put me in the "normal" range for my height according to arbitrary government charts, but I believe 140-150 would look and feel much better on me. :D It's only 30 pounds or so, no big thang.