Thirty-seven years ~ i’ve been driving for thirty-seven years, and have been mostly responsible for taking care of my car myself. i’ve sat through countless oil changes, hovered by the phone waiting for estimates, bemoaned a couple of blown head gaskets. i’ve had cars overheat, get flat tires, and even had the drive shaft break once.
i am not a stranger to garages and car repairs.
So yesterday, I take my car in to get the brakes checked ~ always good to do when you hear that grinding noise, right? i text Sir that i’m taking it in, and am not surprised that there’s no response. He’s at work, i’m sure He’s busy.
Then i text Him when i get the estimate, which is not just a simple new-brake-pads event, but involves leaky hoses replaced and fluids flushed. And of course He doesn’t answer.
i text Him again when i decide to walk up to the bookstore to kill time. No response.
Again when i go to a deli to get coffee and hang out with my book. No response.
And i start feeling pouty and sad and uncared for and some kind of insidious abandonment issues kick in. Ugh.
There is no reason for me to feel abandoned. i know this.
He told me from the beginning that He might not always answer when i text Him. At the time, i thought this was some Domly principal, but no. He doesn’t always answer because He leaves his phone places, He forgets to charge it, or He just doesn’t hear it. i know this.
And i still feel abandoned.
i think about Monkey’s recent post “Pat, Pat, Goes the Sub-girl.” It perfectly describes what i want from him right now.
Just as i finish my coffee and head back to the garage, He texts back. By then i’m walking, and i’ve half-way closed off that part of myself that wanted Him to pat me back anyhow, so i just keep walking as my phone dings. And dings. i keep walking. Pouty.
Only about the time i get back to the shop, He calls, and of course i answer.
Cell phone was in the car. Do i need anything? A ride? Anything He can do?
See, He DIDN’T really abandon me!
And all is well again.