October 23 -- One Last Salvo

Monday, October 23 -- One Last Salvo

Carolyn Arends, "This Much I Understand"

knew things were going too well.
This morning I woke up before my wife and baby, no easy task in itself, and hopped into the shower -- and quickly hopped out. There, sitting casually on a loofah, was one of our six-legged friends -- you know, the creepy kind who are able to survive global thermonuclear war. I quickly flushed him down the toilet, and threw the loofah in the trash (the thought of anyone actually using it again was just too disgusting). But the best was yet to come.
I got myself ready for church, and picked up my car keys and went out the front door -- Mom and Baby were still getting ready, but I was going to drive myself over because I needed to be there early. I went out to the parking lot, stood there and looked around for a while, and wandered back into the house…
"Umm, Honey -- where is the car?…"
"What?"
"The car -- it's, uh, not out there…"
"You're kidding me."
"Uh -- no."
I went back outside and scouted the area where I was sure I had last seen our vehicle -- and all I could find were a couple of crumbles of broken glass, and the air freshener that used to be hanging from the rear view mirror.
They couldn't have waited two weeks to decide to steal a car -- by then, we'd be out of there. No, they just had to hotwire ours instead. Luckily, it was the old clunker instead of the New Beetle, and luckily we'll only be out $100 because we have pretty good insurance, but it still ticks me off that someone thinks they have a right to help themselves to our car whenever they feel like it. I can't understand why they picked it -- its probably the most worthless car in the whole lot. The tires aren't new or anything, there's damage to sa couple of places on the body, and there was nothing at all in it except a laundry basket and a recycling bin. The stereo was nice, but it's worthless to them because we still have the faceplate. My wife and I keep wondering if we're on "The Truman Show" or something because these kind of bizarre, ironic things keep happening to us on a regular basis.
All that ranting aside, I am not going to let the loss of this car ruin the fact that we are going home, and I'm going to be starting at (what I hope is) a much more interesting job. If we have to go out and buy a new car when we get there, that's fine -- heck, that could even be fun. If we have to make arrangements to transport our car across the country should it be found, that's fine too, because my new company seems willing to go out of their way to make the moving process easy for me. Nothing is going to ruin the blessings I've been receiving lately, and that, car or no car, this is going to be a sweet, sweet Thanksgiving.


	knew things were going too well. This morning I woke up before my wife and baby, no easy task in itself, and hopped into the shower -- and quickly hopped out. There, sitting casually on a loofah, was one of our six-legged friends -- you know, the creepy kind who are able to survive global thermonuclear war. I quickly flushed him down the toilet, and threw the loofah in the trash (the thought of anyone actually using it again was just too disgusting). But the best was yet to come. I got myself ready for church, and picked up my car keys and went out the front door -- Mom and Baby were still getting ready, but I was going to drive myself over because I needed to be there early. I went out to the parking lot, stood there and looked around for a while, and wandered back into the house… "Umm, Honey -- where is the car?…" "What?" "The car -- it's, uh, not out there…" "You're kidding me." "Uh -- no." I went back outside and scouted the area where I was sure I had last seen our vehicle -- and all I could find were a couple of crumbles of broken glass, and the air freshener that used to be hanging from the rear view mirror. They couldn't have waited two weeks to decide to steal a car -- by then, we'd be out of there. No, they just had to hotwire ours instead. Luckily, it was the old clunker instead of the New Beetle, and luckily we'll only be out $100 because we have pretty good insurance, but it still ticks me off that someone thinks they have a right to help themselves to our car whenever they feel like it. I can't understand why they picked it -- its probably the most worthless car in the whole lot. The tires aren't new or anything, there's damage to sa couple of places on the body, and there was nothing at all in it except a laundry basket and a recycling bin. The stereo was nice, but it's worthless to them because we still have the faceplate. My wife and I keep wondering if we're on "The Truman Show" or something because these kind of bizarre, ironic things keep happening to us on a regular basis. All that ranting aside, I am not going to let the loss of this car ruin the fact that we are going home, and I'm going to be starting at (what I hope is) a much more interesting job. If we have to go out and buy a new car when we get there, that's fine -- heck, that could even be fun. If we have to make arrangements to transport our car across the country should it be found, that's fine too, because my new company seems willing to go out of their way to make the moving process easy for me. Nothing is going to ruin the blessings I've been receiving lately, and that, car or no car, this is going to be a sweet, sweet Thanksgiving.