I must preface this by saying that sometimes shit happens and that no matter what you do, you can't avoid it. And by this I mean, not only have I had "serious" computer issues (like letting those that don't know what do with it, do whatever they want to with it, and infect it with some sort of serious STOV (Some Type Of Virus)...HELLLOOO!! when the virus protection says "infected" don't go any further) and you do....crap, do you have ANY IDEA OF HOW MUCH WORK YOU JUST MADE ME HAVE TO DO????. I've also had ISP issues. And, this, compounded with whatever goes along with living life on the www, just hasn't made it possible to post. I probably shouldn't let you know that my computer is ancient and really needs to be replaced, should I? However, that could just net me a bigger, better machine, so yes, by all means, I'd be happy to take your "hand-me-down-thank-you-very-much-bound-to-be-better-than-what-I-got!
But life in my real world has been hell too, but, hey, you know, I'll grab another excuse wherever I can. And by real world, I'm talking eight to four thirty. But I don't blog about work...
So here's the real deal thingy.
Ever since I signed the cheque, I’ve been having panic attacks. I mean, it’s only for fifty bucks, but that fifty bucks will change my life as I know it.
#1Son has signed up for, wait for it….Driver’s Ed!! And he’s at his first class as I type this!!
Just shoot me now! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!
I used to look forward to him getting his license. Almost as much as I was looking forward to him moving out! Aging the poor kid I know, but getting his license, it would mean that I wouldn’t be driving him all over the place. It would mean sending him to the store. Or to pick up his brother. Or drive SG and I home from some place where we could consume too much grape.
And then, on Saturday, we’re heading off to get his “customer number” from the Provincial Insurance Provider. You need one you know, or you can’t take the written test. And then the questions start.
“How much would tires cost for this thing”?
“Why”
“Cause once I’m driving it, there ain’t gonna be any rubber left on ‘em!”
So, while my chest tightens slowly, I give a nervous giggle. Change the subject I say to myself.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
Idle chit chat for about 3 minutes when he drops the next one on me.
“How does it work if the car gets written off”?
Que the band around my chest begin to tighten even more. He hasn’t even cracked the book yet and he’s looking forward to wrecking my Cav? And wondering how it’ll work if he writes it off??
“You don’t really need to know how it works if the car gets written off.”
“Wait Mom....yes I do…what if someone takes me out? Or what if it gets creamed while I have it parked at the school?”
“You think you’re going to be taking my car to school!?!?!?”
“Sure, why not. You and dad can carpool”
So now, it begins to feel like I’m seriously having a heart attack. I decide to slow down and turn around, you know, head back home. Screw the Customer Number! Screw the Driver’s Ed. Screw even letting my son touch my car keys ever again.
This is soooo not going to be fun at all.
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