I don't even know how to describe this feeling
I woke up at Fran and Laura's house today. We had an aweome night last night - Laura gave a 50 minute lecture on WW1, we ate yummy food, we drank cheap wine, and I had a comfy couch on which to sleep. This morning, Fran made waffles. Everything was great, lovely morning, lovely friends. Around 10:30am I went outside to get in my car and go to work. Except the car wasn't there. At all. Just not there. Keep in mind: this car doesn't belong to me, it's Brian's (my mom's boyfriend). It's an Infiniti. In my mind, it's a tan car. After I walked up and down the block, I went back to my friend's place.
People were called. The panic attack started. Fran and Laura took over, called the police and the impound lots, and then Fran took me outside to drive me around and look for the car. Which, again, in my mind.... is tan. I have been driving it for 4 weeks now, pretty much every day.
"That's your car," says Fran, pointing to a green car parked right where I could have sworn I parked my tan car. "That's an Infiniti." Fran has seen my car once before.
"No it's not, my car doesn't look like that..."
Oh wait.
That was my car. My green car. I have a spolier on the back of my car? I guess I do. It's green? Since when is my car green? Fran says it's always been green. Brian refers to it as "jade."
It was totally my car. My coffee mug was in the cup holder, my sneakers were in the back, and it was locked up. I always lock the car. Always. And it has an alarm.
After I finished dying and Fran eventually stopped laughing at me, I got in the car and drove to work. Laura gave me all kinds of reasons for why I'm not the stupidest, most idiotic person on the planet ("you have a lot going on, you're busy, you're working too hard, things happen..."), but in fact, that is exactly what I am. Oh my god. Thank god for Fran and Laura. Thank god. Seriously.
A metrocard was never this much stress.
People were called. The panic attack started. Fran and Laura took over, called the police and the impound lots, and then Fran took me outside to drive me around and look for the car. Which, again, in my mind.... is tan. I have been driving it for 4 weeks now, pretty much every day.
"That's your car," says Fran, pointing to a green car parked right where I could have sworn I parked my tan car. "That's an Infiniti." Fran has seen my car once before.
"No it's not, my car doesn't look like that..."
Oh wait.
That was my car. My green car. I have a spolier on the back of my car? I guess I do. It's green? Since when is my car green? Fran says it's always been green. Brian refers to it as "jade."
It was totally my car. My coffee mug was in the cup holder, my sneakers were in the back, and it was locked up. I always lock the car. Always. And it has an alarm.
After I finished dying and Fran eventually stopped laughing at me, I got in the car and drove to work. Laura gave me all kinds of reasons for why I'm not the stupidest, most idiotic person on the planet ("you have a lot going on, you're busy, you're working too hard, things happen..."), but in fact, that is exactly what I am. Oh my god. Thank god for Fran and Laura. Thank god. Seriously.
A metrocard was never this much stress.