Tire Tuesday

It’s 12:37pm. Tuesday. And I’m typing this from home.

Why am I home?! That’s a great question!

My tire has a gash in the sidewall and was deemed “unfixable” last night after I had driven around Wichita trying to frantically get it patched after work. I guess it’s frowned upon to drive on them when there’s a hole in the sidewall- even though I’ve been driving with it this way (unknowingly) since Saturday. BUT HEY, I’M STILL ALIVE!

This experience has taught me that Yaris tires aren’t really an “in stock” kind of tire. Which makes sense for tire shops because my tires are small and this is Kansas where people like their trucks and SUVs, but not good for me when I commute over an hour one way Monday through Friday. Missing a day of work because of a crap tire isn’t exactly what I would call ideal.

However, things have panned out in my favor– I started taking antibiotics again last night. I am thankful I’m stuck here so I can die in the privacy of my own home. In peace and quiet where there is a more than adequate supply of soft toilet paper.

This made me think of how lucky I am. I will never have to worry about colon cleanses because my body takes care of it for me.

...think of all the money I’m saving every time I take antibiotics or have some dairy. Or have awful anxiety.

Speaking of anxiety, ohhhhh man! I had a meltdown Friday.

I was tired. My medicine that I needed three days ago wasn’t at the pharmacy and the doctor’s office was already closed so I couldn’t call them. Plus I was hungry and overwhelmed. I knew I was close to my melting point, so I ordered a sandwich from Jimmy John’s in hopes of stopping the pending avalanche.

It sort of helped.

So did the Hyundai SUV that was behind me on the drive home because it looked like it was the mime of the automobile world. I kid you not.

Naturally, my anxiety riddled brain began to wonder how mimes, the clown lite of the entertainment world, get started. What’s their average income?! Do they paint their faces, choose a street corner, and go for it? Or do they have to go to college to get some type of miming degree because everything takes a degree these days? Are their parents disappointed when they break the news they want to spend thousands of dollars to become a mime (assuming theoretical mime-to-be is young but that shouldn’t stop them from going for it if miming is their passion)?

While the distraction was helpful, the breaking point was when I arrived home. I just wanted some ice cream. In my bed. That’s it.

But no, I was stuck in the bathroom. For probably twenty sad, frustrating minutes. All I wanted was some fucking ice cream! I became convinced I was going to die in my bathroom roughly ten minutes into this hostage situation. I couldn’t even write a good-bye letter on toilet paper because who keeps pens in their bathroom?! …maybe I should put some in there because of this exact scenario.

Fortunately for both me and my best friend who was getting all kinds of meltdown texts (I love you!), I was released back into the wild to retrieve the ice cream from the freezer.

I was so happy. And twenty minutes later, I felt much, much better. Like a functional adult instead of a tired, grumpy toddler.

Looking back, it was kind of funny- at least the text messages I sent to John were. I am so grateful to have him. I don’t know how he knows how to handle me when I’m a mess but he does it so well.

I sent him roughly ten texts full of angry capital letters. His response? An emoji heart and told me to eat more fiber.

I laughed. And that’s exactly what I needed. Well, apparently some fiber, too.

But not today. I’d rather not add fuel to the pharmaceutical fire.

Published by amberalice

Kansas Native. Knitter. Amateur photographer. Lover of love, plants, and great burritos.

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