I Love Lucy

So I mostly drive an automatic. I used to drive a stick, years ago, BK (before kids) but in the child raising years of my life, I found I needed both hands free to handle whatever situation came up in the car, things like “mom the dog is chewing my seatbelt” or “Mom, did you bring my uniform” or “Mom, there’s a cop following you”. Those kinds of things. Yeah. Sometimes the stick is just too much.

But even with the automatic, I have plenty of I LOVE LUCY moments. Like the other day. No, I didn’t lock my keys in my car with the car running in a snow storm outside the grocery store. That’s so last year. No I didn’t fall onto a parked BMW and scratch it with the keys in my hand as I hit the street and broke my foot. That would be embarrassing. Besides, I already did that.

I got into my car after having breakfast with a friend and drove forward instead of backing out of my parking spot, and got my car stuck on a parking cement block what-ever-it’s-called thingie.

Seriously. I really do shit like that. I’m not sure why. I’m educated. I’m a thinker. I’m a planner. And this sort of thing STILL happens to me.

Maybe it’s because I spend most of my life with my head in the clouds plotting and planning books? Or maybe I’m just a natural ditz. But as Alpha Man sometimes says in complete bafflement when I’ve just told him one of these situations I’ve gotten myself in, sometimes it’s hard to be me.

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