It’s Monday. That alone should have made me know better. Monday never ends up well. It just doesn’t.
Here I was…7:00 at night, feeling like it had been a pretty good day. Maybe even a great day.
I got the stuff done I needed to get done at work. The kids and I hit the library and not only did they get books and dvd’s they wanted, I was able to find the book that I wanted, as well. I made a good dinner and no one complained, and they ate it happily. Real Man worked from home today, so he wasn’t late coming home from work and we got to spend some time together. Really…a darn good day.
Baby Monkey and I had our follow-up appointments at the doctor at 7:00. Her office is 20 minutes away and we take Route 80 to get there. Traffic was light and Baby Monkey and I sang together in the car. While we waited on the couch in the waiting room, we read books and snuggled and had a great time.
Then, we go in. Baby Monkey was delightful, but despite his fabulous little self, he’s still “musical” in his chest when he breathes, so now, in addition to his antibiotic, he’s on prednisone. He’s been on prednisone once before. Roid rage is not myth. This should be interesting.
Then, she checks me. I just finished my second course of 14 days of antibiotics. That’s right folks…I’ve been on antibiotics for 28 days now. And yes…I still have a sinus infection. I’m at the point where I don’t even remember what normal feels like. The poor people in my choir must be wishing me to go on vacation because I can’t even hear myself sing because my ears are always popped, so I just sing and hope I’m hitting some of the right notes. Unfortunately, they are all too polite to tell me if I’m sucking up the place. I’m exhausted all the time and basically just want to drill a hole in my temple, insert a little faucet and let the snot drip out…much like the pioneers did to get sap from a tree. Okay, maybe a little different…and a lot grosser…but you get the point.
So, she referred me to an ear, nose and throat doctor because she says I have a chronic sinus infection and it’s going to take a specialist to deal with it. Fine. I can do that.
Even after the doctor appointment, I was still feeling pretty good about the day. I mean, I was surprised that Baby Monkey needed the steroids, but I knew I was still sick, so no huge surprise there.
Baby Monkey and I drove home and as we were on Route 80, singing away, I glanced at the spedometer. Zero. Actually, less than zero. Like, the space below zero where the pointer rests when the car is turned off. What? Huh? I’m obviously not stopped, and the car is obviously not turned off, but there it is. Zero.
So, I freak a little, but then realize that the car is driving fine, the spedometer just isn’t working. I pull into the right lane and slow down, because I generally have a bit of a lead foot, and that is when I can tell how fast I am going. The thought of me driving without even having a clue as to my speed even made me a little nervous.
Baby Monkey and I continue on our way. We get off at our exit and continue the drive home.
We get to a stop light where there are two lanes going each way. We are in the left lane and there is a car to our right, in the right lane. We stop.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, this SUV actually drives between my van and the car next to me, taking my sideview mirror with him. No, there was no lane there. He literally tried to squeeze his SUV between our two cars.
AND KEEPS ON DRIVING!
Let me tell you a little something about myself.
I have road rage.
Actually, I have Road Rage. The depth of my Road Rage needs the capital letters. I have put myself in some pretty dangerous situations before because of my Road Rage. It is always a reaction to the bad driving of others, but it’s there.
Since having the kids, I have tempered my rage to the extreme. The kids would never know if someone cut me off, because I’ve learned to keep the rage bottled up inside when the kids are in the car.
So, here I am…Baby Monkey is in the car, but this guy didn’t just ruin my car, he put my baby in danger with his shenanigans.
I wasn’t having it.
So, I follow him. And I start beeping.
Perhaps beeping is not an accurate statement.
I just lay on the horn while following him.
He keeps driving, but I notice that he’s not really going very fast, and I realize that he wasn’t really going very fast when he hit me either.
But, he won’t pull over and he won’t stop.
So, I continue to leave my forearm on the horn while following him.
Eventually, he slowly turns onto a side street.
He continues to drive slowly until he finally just kinda peters to a stop.
I get out, phone in hand, and stand next to my car and wait.
After about a minute, he gets out. Nicely dressed guy…probably my age or a little older.
I say, “Are you kidding me???”
He says, “Oh my God…I’m so sorry. My brakes went out! I couldn’t stop. It was either try to go between you and the other car or hit you in the rear.”
So, immediately, I’m diffused a bit because I’m glad he tried to squeeze through rather than make a direct hit on the back of the van, which was exactly where Baby Monkey was sitting.
He explains again and so now I feel badly for the guy and I ask if he’s okay. He was…just shaken up.
He gives me his insurance information and takes my name and number. Good news…we have the same insurance company. I’ll call tomorrow.
Bad news…if my car didn’t make me look like white trash before, it certainly does now, as it is going to take some duct tape to keep the mirror together until it gets fixed.
Good news. Everyone is fine, especially this poor guy who must have been scared to death.
I got back in the car and Baby Monkey said, “Did that guy hit your car?”
I said, “Yep. You okay?”
He said, “Yep. You okay?”
I said, “Yep.”
And we headed to the pharmacy.
Oh, did I forget to mention that I also accidentally erased all of the songs off of my iPhone this evening while trying to download a new song? Yeah. I did.
Next Monday, someone please remind me to just stay in bed.