Well, this is, quite literally, the sixth time I’ve started this blog. Holy Toledo! The subject has changed from one topic to another, all depending on who/what was going on at the time I was interrupted… yikes!
Well, today was – weird. Not in the sense that something eery or off the wall happened, just unordinarily different (ummm… okay, I know, that doesn’t make much sense... just roll with it, I’m too tired to fight it…).
Rather than attempt to write a long blog tonight, yet still keep up with my “nearly daily” commitment, I’m just going to do this:
My morning was fairly typical. I was too tired to listen to the damn alarm go off, and so apparently, in my slumber, turned it off. Thankfully, something inside of me told me that things weren’t quite legit, so I snapped awake; I was fifteen minutes behind my “you absolutely have to get up now, dude!” schedule.
“Nah, man… hit the snooze.”
But I didn’t want to wake up Left Side and Right Side, so I sat up, my feet hit the floor, and I assumed meditation position – all in one seamless motion. Except, of course, the yawn, the stretch, the scratching and rubbing of eyes, nudging Left Side (or Right Side, couldn’t tell who it was in the dark), and then – well, ya, I was tired, so they woke up, too.
Meditation went something like this:
Me: (Inhale) “I have arrived.”
(Exhale) “I am home.”
(Inhale) “I ha-ve arr..i…v’d”
Left Side: (elbowing Right Side) “Dude… we’re sleeping again.”
Right Side: (rubbing eyes) “What about the blog post?”
Left Side: “Blog post?! No! I’m referring to the bank withdraw’l, dummy!”
Right Side: “What?! That makes no sense! What does that have to do with the blog?”
Left Side: “I’m not talking about the blog! I’m talking about Mr. Meditation Man’s friends! KEEP UP WITH ME, MAN!”
Me: (Inhale) “I have arrived… this time… maybe…”
(Exhale) “… or… zzzzzzzz”
Ya, that’s kinda how my morning went, all morning long.
We had home inspections again this last Saturday. As usual, we told the management company that we thought the roof was leaking. They actually did something this time and brought in a professional, who agreed that “something was going on.”
While I was at the house, waiting on him to finish up his stuff, I decided to call a mechanic about my broken down truck. It’s time to get it working again. I’ll need it for the move, and I just happen to have some money to pay for it.
I got the tow-truck arranged, the roof inspector left, and I sat down to catch up on the Drunkless Twitter stuff. I’ll tell you, I’m not very good at the Tweeting thing yet. HW does it, and she does a good job of it, but we’re limited to a number of characters we can type and – well, you guys know me – I write and write and write until you’re bored to tears, I’m sure. Sorry ‘bout that! Anyway, I’m not sure what to say in such a short amount of words. Guess it is time to learn.
The tow-truck showed up and the driver asked what’s wrong with the vehicle, so I explain; along with a little Left Side and Right Side internal commentary, “What’s it to him? Just get the damn vehicle to the mechanic like we asked! It’s not a hard thing to do, dude! I’ve seen people do it many times!” (Ya, I’ll stop there, it just get’s old after a minute.) I had to run inside to get some of my gear, and when I came back out, the driver had popped the hood on my truck, installed a jump battery, and actually got the engine to turn over.
Wait – wut?
Ya. It cranked. His little battery jumper didn’t have enough juice to get it going, but it cranked the engine! He pulled his big rig next to my now-apparently-tiny-truck and pulled out his jumper cables. Moments later, my beautiful three-quarter ton pickup woke up and was ready to go! Just like nothing had ever happened!
Now, before we go get too excited and celebrate complete victory (here comes two of my big character defects, Left Side and Right Side), we need to remember that this has happened twice before, only to stop working after a couple of weeks of driving.
But you know what? It is driving now. It works. But here’s the best part of it running – ready for this?
I got behind the wheel. No, silly – that’s not the best part! Wait for it – wait for it!
The last time (and every time prior to it), even with the seat all the way back, my belly would actually press against the steering wheel. Today – it didn’t even touch it. No, wait, let me say that again:
MY BELLY DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH THE STEERING WHEEL!
For those of you that don't know me, I’m a fairly large man. I didn’t use to be, I was a relatively thin person, really – fairly fit and about a hundred and ninety pounds or so. After my back injury and getting married to a woman that knew how the hell to cook, I became very over weight.
However, since I started my recovery, I have been slowly melting in size – almost since day one. It’s been great! And this was very encouraging! I was so happy from that alone, and now that my truck starts, I just drove the thing all over the place, including down town to my typical coffee shop! I thought about just hanging out in my truck, just because – but then realized that the people might call the cops thinking I’m stalking the coffee house… or whatever… ya, I’m tired.
But, there is a “down side” to all of this. The truck isn’t ready to drive just yet. I just figured I’d be careful driving. And I was. Unless going ten miles over the posted speed limit is considered “not being careful.” Apparently, the kind police officer that pulled me over seemed to agree with that latter statement.
What? I thought the speed limit was 55. I was wrong. It was so 50. oi.
Did I mention that my insurance card was out of date? From like a year ago? No? Well, it was.
Let’s not talk about the vehicle registration, which had been revoked because I couldn’t get my truck to a place that could test the emissions.
Now wait a minute! I’ve said it in previous blogs before, so I’ll remind everyone again!
Where there is a down, there is also – an UP.
I explained to the officer, due to his line of questioning, that I thought the speed limit was 55, and that “yes,” I did indeed know I was going 60, so I am busted. He very kindly explained that it wasn’t 55, it was 50. And that I shouldn’t be going 60, even if it was 55; which it isn’t 55, so I should be going 50, and not my assumed 55. He told me to remember that. Not 55, not 60, but 50. Only 50 there, and not said 55 or 60. (Right, got the picture Sir Officer…)
The insurance? He said that if I could pull up the latest proof on my phone, he’d accept it.
Now, on the matter of the revoked vehicle registration… well, I had explained to him right away that the truck was just back up and running today, after sitting for about eight to ten months.
I was using my honest face, really, I was. One might think that an officer as kind as he was would just let me off the hook, wouldn’t they?
Well, if I asked, “Would you like to know how much the damn ticket cost me?” what would you guess?
Zero. Zip. Zilch.
He let me go with a warning. (I kept telling you guys he was kind! He’s just a little repetitive, that’s all.)
I was released with a kind warning to watch the speed limit and to drive safe.
This was a good ending for me. I didn’t have to pay towing fees, I didn’t have to pay a mechanic to dig around and find a needle in the hay stack, I discovered through physical proof (again) that I am not only losing weight, but size, and I found out that my good looks can charm an officer out of giving me a ticket! Okay, okay – it was dark, he didn’t even see me.
Good night, I’m going to bed without editing this blog. Accept the typos as they are. I’m going to go dream 4x4ing in my 2x4 truck with Left Side and Right Side arguing about which side of the mountain to take. Talk to you guys tomorrow.