Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Breaking through

Yesterday was not an easy day. It was not one of those sunny days where things go your way -- the lights turning green in succession, with only the "good" songs playing on the radio. No. Instead it was pouring here in San Diego, which happens infrequently, and tends to cause problems. And the radio was not playing my favorites. In fact, it wasn't even on the right station.

Early in the day, before the rain started in earnest, I dropped my car off at the Volvo dealer. It needed its 90,000 mile service as well as a diagnostic for the pesky engine light had come on. I got to the dealership at 7:15, as planned, was in the shuttle by 7:30 (the driver favored an easy-listening radio station), and to work by 7:45. 

I dug into my work tasks upon arrival, which I am enjoying less and less lately, and the day moved along like most work days in the office do. Slowly. It was all going OK until lunch time. By then the rain was coming down hard, and I was, unsurprisingly, getting hungry.  What to eat? I put a little thought into this then remembered that I had no car. This limited the possibilities. I put a little more thought into this, then remembered that I had no umbrella; it was in my car. This limited my possibilities even more. All the way down to eating the almonds that were in my desk.

Add to this the fact that we are out of water in the office -- the Sparklett's guy claiming that he'd stopped by the last two weeks to deliver -- yet our giant upside down jug remains empty and dry. Desk almonds and no water is not the best combination. I went to the disgusting water fountain in the hall and got what I needed, awkwardly trying to fill my cup at an angle that would let me capture more than half a glass before spilling out. It would have to do.

The call from the Volvo dealership came in about 2 pm. Dan, the service man, (real name) told me that in addition to the insane amount of money that I already agreed to pay for the 90k service and diagnostic, they had found, and  I'm not kidding here, $3500 worth of repairs to make, including a suggestion that I get new tires. I had replaced two of my tires less than six months ago, so, wtf? I cried bullshit, half laughing and half yelling at the  poor guy. No thank you to the fixes, Dan. I don't have dealership finances. I'll take it elsewhere. Oh, but hey, please still send the shuttle to get me, yeah? 

The shuttle did eventually arrive, in the crazy pouring rain, and we beat it up the highway, with everyone else, bumper to bumper, with flash flood alerts dinging on our phones, and emergency vehicles trying to get through to aid others in need.

When we finally did get to the Volvo dealership, there was no electricity. They had to use one of those ancient credit card contraptions, the metal ones that sort of look like rat traps, to get the numbers from my card. After which, they retrieved my still broken car, and I headed out towards the gridlocked highway.

I inched slowing down the 163, finally, finally merging to the 8W, which I knew would be less congested. It was still slower than normal, on account of the stormy weather, but as I headed west, getting closer to home, the skies started to clear. Closer still, the clouds parted, and there, after a long, hangry day, was a fabulous sunset. Right there! A sunset, with it's blues and yellows and pinks, its radiance, its beauty. Right under the storm clouds, and irritation, and monotony. Right behind the agitation, anxiety, and doubt. The perfect reminder that the light is always there, even if sometimes you can't see it, or feel it. 


Pat said...

Good f or you for finding a silver lining.
Love, Mom

jacquie said...

I was so scared you were going to say that something awful awaited you at home! Yay for the sunset's restorative powers, and boo at the meeting of your basic needs. Could you not make a trash bag poncho and forage your way to Chiba?!


Beth said...

I love that idea, J! Next time! Although, come to think about it, we don't have any trash bags in the office, there is a cleaning service that deals with all things trash bag. But I should seriously stash one in my desk for the next deluge! xoxo


check engine light in Central PA said...

Wish I had had the beautiful sunset on my way back from rejecting the $1,500 tab to get my check engine light off of my 3 year old car (from a car company that could use some good PR about now)
Silver linings keep me sane :)

Me, You, or Ellie said...

A happy ending! I love it! Well, except for the car . . . . .

And might I suggest a spare 'brally in your desk instead of a trash bag? Or is that too easy?

I'm sorry for all you Sandy Eggans these days. Good luck with your current End-of-Days weather.

I bet, though, that everybody is sporting their super-cute raingear that they never get to wear?

Or is everybody going the trash bag route?

Good luck!