After getting out of work late last Thursday, I threw my bottle of water in the freezer to chill before hitting the road. As I did it, I knew it was a bad idea. You guessed it. I forgot the bottle in the freezer. What's that you say? Was it glass? Sure was. I am looking forward to going home to clean the exploded broken glass out of my freezer.
Last night on my drive home I was getting close to home on I-55 (I had already passed exit 109 at Williamsville) when the left half of the car slammed through what I assumed was a pot hole. It was jarring to say the least. I thought maybe the wheels had fallen off. I was shaking and listened and didn't feel the familiar thwump, thwump of a flat tire. I proceeded with caution repeating to myself over and over again "It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."
This morning in the haze of my foggy morning brain, I went out to inspect the car in daylight. The wheel was visibly bent and the tire pressure was at about half what it should be. On my father's recommendation, I proceeded to the gas station to fill the tire before heading to the tire place to get it inspected. When I went to fill the tire, you could hear the air escaping and I put my hand by the bent wheel to feel the breeze of the air coming out faster than it was going in. I called a tow (who by the way told me "I've never seen a pot hole do that.")
So I sat there in my parents' brand new car. Oh... did I not mention my parents' lent me their brand new car they got last week so my dad could take mine in to have the windshield washer fluid fixed? Yeah. Talk about guilt. Sorry Mom and Dad. I hope your other children make you proud.
So here I sit at work again. Looking forward to those shards of glass, driving home on my baby spare tire, and doing more cold calling at work tomorrow. Didn't I mention the cold calling? Good. I'd like to pretend it doesn't exist. Or that more doesn't exist tomorrow and I don't have to stay late for it. I may need a beer.