That is the Time and Relative Dimension in Space… AKA Sexy.
It looks like a blue gray Honda Accord thanks to the chameleon circuit, which has been stuck that way since 2003. For the most part it works correctly, but today it failed me. This car has done well so far carry me through time and space (we haven’t worked out the dimension part yet, The Doctor didn’t leave directions for that part). However, we all know that Sexy has a mind of her own. Today she opted to not complete the journey to Woodland Park for V’s baby shower, instead redirecting me to Commerce City.
I was extremely concerned as we were traveling through a wibbly wobbly area of the mountains with no pull off in sight when she failed to accelerate up a particular hill. This was of utmost concern due to the fact that I had been in the fast lane and those other cars were going MUCH faster than ole Sexy here. Fortunately she guided us in to a pull off and we checked the operating systems for failure. Apparently she was a little low on cosmic juice. Since I was also low on extra cosmic juice for her, we determined it was best to return to Denver (a downhill drive).
Once down the hill Sexy was acting fine. She really does have a mind of her own. An S.O.S. was put out to the local D.A.D and he was standing by upon landing at the parental units property. Though disappointing to have rerouted the trip for the day, I did manage to get some pictures of me playing under Sexy’s hood. We performed all the primary maintenance necessary and then some to return her to peak performance.
The moral of my Doctor Who inspired tale for the day is that sometimes life has plans of it’s own. I could sit here and assume that if I hadn’t bought the cheap gas, or had changed the oil before this leg of the trip that it may have gone smoothly. Both might be accurate, or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be for today. Dear wanderer, I hope by now you are beginning to understand that when things occur, each person can choose if their metaphorical glass is half empty or half full. In the end, whatever you choose, remember it is more important that there is ALWAYS something in the cup to work with. I encourage you to sit back and tell yourself the story as if you believe it were both ways, as I did above. Then choose the one that most pleases you. I find the half full story is much better… That sometimes life just happens outside my control. Now that I am accepting this, the moments of stress, overwhelming fear, and anxiety are diminished or easily overcome through self talk and introspection.
I’m a fan of metaphors (if you haven’t noticed), so think of this as a glass of milk. The reason you shouldn’t cry over spilt milk is not because you have more milk (maybe you don’t). It is because once the milk is spilt, you can’t unspill it, no matter how hard you cry or how much you fight. So why fight?
Earlier this year, I locked my keys in my car twice, in one week, in the same store parking lot. I had to call the same lock smith, who sent the same man, who performed the same procedure. Where as once upon a time I would have fallen apart, hidden away, maybe even abandoned the car and walked five miles home to sit outside and wait for my brother… This time I laughed. The second time I laughed. Then I sat on my trunk to meditate the residual anxiety away while waiting for the locksmith. This was the point that I found I was becoming more capable and happier at life. It was pre-wandering, but I was changing. I had tools which showed me to laugh and meditate through the problem.
Don’t cry over the spilt milk, go pour yourself a glass of something else, and make the story something you enjoy telling. It can be done, that is your choice.
Signing off Commerce City, CO.