Patience Tested by Flat Tire

During the past several months, I've been making an effort to become a more patient person. Some of you may disagree, but I think it's working. Tonight, I saw actual results. On my way to the grocery store, Kia got a flat tire. (Driver's side rear; of course, this is not one of the two tires that I replaced a couple of weeks ago.) Amazingly, I did not mutter a single unholy word under my breath. I calmly pulled into the nearest parking lot and opened the trunk to pull out the spare. Then I remembered that I am far too klutzy to change a tire without getting grease all over the cream-colored suit that I had just picked up from the cleaners. Feeling like a total girl, I called AAA. I patiently read my book (On Beauty, by Zadie Smith) as I waited for them to show up. I went to the Wedge, picked up food for dinner, and drove home at 50 mph all pleased with myself for handling the situation like a mature adult instead of having a hissy fit. Now I'm driving around with a donut, wishing I had sold the car last week, as intended. But my blood pressure has remained rock steady. I'm pleased.

The average battered woman returns to her abuser eight times. There is no doubt, of course, that I have been in an abusive relationship with the Kia for nearly seven years. I have forgiven her various transgressions a million times. I have a disturbingly short memory when it comes to that car. I've been so happy driving her around since I got the new tires, since Matt fixed the brakes, and even though she is currently going through a phase where I am the only one in the world who knows how to start her. (There's a magical combination of pressing the clutch just so and turning the key just right...Matt is going to take a look at this situation for me this week.) I've been meaning to sell her to some pathetic unsuspecting soul, but the heat is currently working, and there is air in the tires, and it's above zero, so the doors are opening and shutting, so she seems like the perfect car if you overlook the um, cosmetic imperfections and lack of power steering and other superfluous features. Also I hit a bump just right this weekend and the dashboard lights turned on. Joy!

As fate would have it, Greta is leaving for Korea in a few weeks, and was planning to park her Buick LeSabre for the year. She has offered to loan it to me for the year instead. This is perfect. Hopefully in a year, I'll be in a position to get some decent wheels, and meanwhile I'll at least have a vehicle that has heat in the winter, and I only need it to drive to school and back anyway, ten miles a day, tops. My Grandpa is on a grand mission to get all of his children and grandchildren into a Buick LeSabre, so I'm sure he'll be quite pleased with the arrangement. He's been incredibly successful in this quest so far. It's embarrassing.