Shoulda Stayed in Bed!

Some days start bad and just get worse. Tuesday was like that.

First, I had to scrape the windows on my van. It was below freezing outside, but we left Mad Scientist’s winter jacket at church Sunday, so I had to dig out something to keep him warm.

After I put the kids on the bus, I planned to take Tenor Sensation’s bicycle to the shop for an overhaul as a birthday present, but when I called the bike shop, they said they haven’t done bikes in four years. I checked the phone book, and there are no other bike shops closer than 30 miles away.

So I turned to the next task: a dentist appointment. I had a root canal a week or so ago after I lost a chunk of tooth, and I need a crown. We were planning to wait until I get my braces off, but another chunk broke off this weekend. It would be most annoying to lose the tooth now, after having the root canal, so I called the dentist. Unfortunately, I have to schedule three appointments: one with the orthodontist to have the braces removed, one with the dentist to apply the crown, and another with the orthodontist to put the braces back on. All on the same day. And we have to do it again a week or so later when the crown is ready.

Well, it turns out my orthodontist is on vacation all this week, and my dentist is on vacation all next week! So I was able to make my appointments, but they’re two weeks away, and it took two calls to both offices (four calls total) to accomplish it.

Next I went to the gym, and that went really well (whew!). On the way home, I swung by the church and picked up Mad Scientist’s jacket (good thing, too! It was 27 degrees this morning).

From church, I went to the genealogy library. Several weeks ago, I paid to have some microfilm sent to the local library, and they never called to tell me it was in. Last Thursday, however, they left a message to say they were about to send it back. I was pretty sure I’d paid extra to keep it as long as I wanted, but I made a mental note to call them Friday and straighten it out. I forgot. They aren’t open over the weekend or Mondays, so Tuesday I was at the library when they opened.

It was too late. They’d already returned my film, even though (as I had thought) I did pay extra to keep a copy at the local library more or less forever. They were very sweet and ordered it again, and it should arrive in a couple of weeks, but it was a little frustrating.

My route home intersects with the interstate. I had crossed the overpass and was sitting at the red light when a tractor-trailer turned from the exit onto the road I was on. The road was a little narrow, but he swung as wide as he could, and drove confidently into the lane next to me.

I wondered if I should back up to give him more room, and I checked my rear-view mirror. Nobody behind me. But he drove his cab past my van without hesitating, so I didn’t move.

It was a double: two trailers, hooked together like a train behind the cab. I sat and watched the looming trailers come closer and closer. The first trailer was going to clear, but I didn’t see how the second one would get past.

Still, he didn’t slow down at all. And I know these drivers usually know exactly how much room they have, so I trusted him. I sat and just watched as the trailer, at least twice as high as my little Mommymobile, got closer and closer and closer.

He was going to hit me. There was no possible way he could miss.

I slammed my van into reverse and floored the gas, turning a little to move as far as I could from the center line the truck had already crossed. It felt a little uncontrolled, but it was my only chance to avoid having the corner of my van knocked off by a semi-trailer — the front, driver’s side corner, inches from where I sat. I don’t remember looking behind me as I backed up either. If anyone had been there, I would have slammed into them.

But no one was, and I managed to move a car length or two before the semi rolled across the spot where I had been seconds earlier. Even so, I doubt he missed me by more than four inches.

He never even slowed. Just cruised over the freeway, and turned onto the entrance ramp to get back on, northbound. He must have missed his exit and was turning around. I don’t think he even realized how close he came to an accident he’d have had a tough time explaining.

The light turned green, and I continued down the road, but I was shaking so hard, I had to pull over. How could I control a vehicle when I couldn’t even control my hands? Even now, several days later, when people turning in front of me cut too close, I get the shakes.

Mars called I sat by the side of the room, trying to find the courage to drive. He’d apparently Googled bike shops and found a new one, in one of the shopping centers that was flooded.

I put the car in gear and drove home to get Tenor Sensation’s bike. As I approached our driveway, though, I saw garbage strewn about. It looked familiar too: water bottles, pizza boxes, and … oh, yeah, my children’s homework. It was our trash, all right. The neighbor’s dog had gotten out and pulled a tied bag of trash out of our big can, then chewed it open and dragged it all over the yard. I got a pair of plastic gloves and a trash bag and picked it all up, cursing the durn dog the whole time. Someday I’ll tell you about the neighbor’s dogs, but for today, suffice it to say, this wasn’t the only time I’ve had to do this.

I went inside, got a snack, and then loaded the bike in the van. Both tires were flat, and there were spots of rust, but it didn’t look too bad. The little bike, however, the one Mad Scientist has been nagging us to fix up, was a disaster. Even the chain was one long string of rust.

I drove to the bakery for two loaves of bread: they only had one of the kind I like. I went to the bookstore and found my special order wasn’t in (they called me two hours later to say it had arrived, after I was home).

Then I went to the bike shop.

“It needs a lot of work,” the owner said, too polite to laugh at me. “The broken shock absorber alone would cost $60, and I doubt it cost $150 new.” He stepped back and frowned. “Didn’t you say your son was in college? This is a boy’s bike, for young boys. I don’t think he’d ride it if you did fix it up. He’d get razzed too much.”

While I was there, I priced the bikes. New ones Tenor Sensation’s size start at $300, little boys’ bikes at $150. Hmmm. Not today.

By this point, I was seriously depressed. I ran a couple more errands, then went to the Pfaltzgraff store where I bought an egg poacher and a little personal tea service (pot, cup and snack tray) on impulse.

I went home, set the sacks on the counter, and left to pick up kids at the bus stop. When they arrived, we went home long enough to grab a snack and put Girly Girl’s hair in a bun, then left to take her to ballet.

When we got back home, two hours later, Mars was making dinner. He’d been home for a good 45 minutes, but not two minutes after we arrived, he noticed the sacks on the counter and scolded me for going shopping.

It turned into a big fight over money (we almost never fight, much less about money), so I drank a bottle of wine, took two valium and went to bed.

Some days just aren’t worth getting up for.

Tags: Close Calls, Truck drivers