Love, Jimmie

This is the picture of being a grown-up.  Isn’t it gorgeous?  I’ve got three more just like it.

Here’s the deal with these gorgeous rubber circles I now call my own.  I spent a couple of months slightly worrying about needing them.  Once I resigned myself to the fact that I needed them, I spent a couple of weeks agonizing about buying them.  A co-worker spent a few hours of his time and some energy doing the research for me and then explaining it all to me so I knew what to buy. This was no easy task as I am not what you would call “tire savvy.”  Or “car savvy.”  Let’s just get down to it – I’m not “machinery savvy.”  Probably even better would be to say as long as my car goes in a forward motion of its own volition, I am happy, regardless of the tire tread I leave behind or the exhaust that fogs up our roads coming from the back of my car.  Anyway, we spent the better part of a day churning through that miasma.  I took a couple of hours to shift money around so that I could buy them.  I then paid for them and spent three days waiting for them to come in. This was a long process, months even. 

And last Wednesday morning, I arrived for my appointment to put those tires on my car with a book in hand, a make-up bag and plans for catching up on my correspondence with friends.  I had breakfast in my bag, my laptop and some nail polish, just in case I ran out of things to do.  Sixteen minutes after I sat down in the lobby, the service people called me back up to drive away in my safer, new tire-adorned car. Sixteen minutes.  I must say, I feel slightly cheated.