I was driving Sunday, enjoying the sunny skies and listening to Ryan Adams when my car started to wobble. At first, I thought it was just the wind tugging my vehicle back and forth across the road. But then I was hit with that feeling of dread -- I had a flat tire.
There's not really any good spot to pull over on Interstate 20, but I found a little cubby and parked. I did what any hometown girl would do in case of an emergency and called my brother. Chris, familiar with my damsel in distress routine, seemed a little irritated but hurried over to fix my flat.
I have to admit, I know there are nuts to unscrew and a jack you have to lift your car up with, but beyond that I'm just left scratching my head. I had to retrieve the instruction book just to find the tools. Then there's the whole issue of what you do once you've found them. I consider myself to be extremely independent, but when it comes to fixing tires or moving furniture I'm helpless. I figure this is why I was blessed with two brothers and no sisters.
Now, $440 and four new tires later I'm a little bitter about life's unpredictable moments. I don't know about you guys, but I'm not really at the point in my life where giving up $440 doesn't sting just a little bit, especially around the holidays. Looks like I better find a good recipe for fruit cake.