Yesterday I had a bit of a reality check: on my way to the hospital early yesterday morning the brakes went out in my car — not entirely, but I could almost push the pedal to the floor. Thank God for manual transmissions so I could shift down, and that I only had a few blocks to go. This is actually the second time this has happened to me: my brother was driving my car the other time, in Lincoln NE about fifteen years ago, when my brakes went out and we ran into a two-foot tall wall in a Wendy’s parking lot. Ten feet beyond that wall, a church (stained glass windows, potentially people inside). I guess these things happen, but it spooked me nonetheless.
So after I parked yesterday I had my car towed (thanks AAA) to the shop in South Boston. Two hours later my mechanic told me I’d be out $630 (no thanks greedy mechanics).
Last night I was walking home from work thinking about work when I crossed a crosswalk (I had the light) in a large intersection. I was halfway across one lane when a bus came screaming down the street and made a tire-screeching turn into the lane I was walking in. I jumped to the side while the front driver’s side fender brushed my jacket and pants. I was shocked, but not shocked enough to turn around and give the driver, who had stopped (along with several other horrified people who stopped to gawk) and stared at me in horror, an earful of the bad stuff. I’m not kidding when I say this bus was going 25-30 mph — he was able to make a wide turn because the intersection was big enough for it — and if I don’t make a quick jump to the side, I’m lying in a pool of blood and shattered skull (my own) on the pavement.
Trust me when I say I spent the rest of my walk home contemplating what I’m doing with my life and thinking about how short life can be.
You will be glad to hear this, though: today is going much more smoothly, IE no brushes with death (so far). Tomorrow I go back to the hospital for outpatient surgery. I’m praying for an easy route.