Broken

Sometimes you hit the road, sometimes the road hits you.

I had to take the ol' Power Ram to work the other day to pick up some cylinders. I was still 35 miles away when I was thinking about what to use to give the windshield a good cleaning when it exploded.

I was glad I had sunglasses on because the glass sprayed all over the cab. It doesn't look that impressive but it scared the hell out of me, especially since I was staring at it when it happened and am still not sure where the guilty projectile came from. It looked like this:



It made me think of a lot of things - especially time. Like, if I hadn't dropped the ice cube I was putting into my coffee mug, I would have left three seconds earlier and that chunk of asphalt would have sailed over me, harmlessly. Isn't that weird? Think of how many things I could have done three seconds faster on Tuesday morning. Shaving, showering, getting dressed, finding my phone. Waking up. Brushing my teeth. Tying my shoes. Anything. But suppose I had done any of those things three seconds slower - perhaps I would have stopped at a different light and got clobbered by a trash truck. Or maybe a bee would have come in my window and got trapped between my face and my sunglasses, stinging me in the eyeball. I bet that would've hurt. Or it could have stung me right on the lip, and I'd've been stuck in the hospital with a talking cucumber. Usta!

At any rate, I just got the windshield on my Neon replaced two weeks ago because it's had a huge crack for almost a year. So if I had to take FOD on my way to work I'm glad it was the Ram. Two windshields in two weeks. I wish I could just take the bus. Do you know how much I could read during a commute like that? I need to figure out how to use the Hemet library so I can start checking out books on disc. the library here is a joke, did you know that? I don't know why. It is the suck.

Time to make plans. Good night, all.