On Crashing My Car

I drove our car into a dumpster.

It's not really OK. There were zero extenuating circumstances. There were zero obstacles. Just a long stretch of road and a dumpster, off to the side.

Life is so strange, because you might walk around with a deep conviction, i.e. I'm not a person who drives a car into a dumpster. Then, there's strong, concrete evidence to refute your conviction. But a part of you still holds onto the conviction, even as you stare at the dent in your door.

I could make excuses. I hadn't slept well; the baby had been fussing. I felt ill. Really, the number one culprit is Kaplan. I had been planning to teach an SAT course, and the Kaplan book listed a so-called "grammar issue": The Kaplan book wrote, The Pilgrims brought many provisions, such as meats and vegetables. The Kaplan people said that this sentence was wrong, because a correct sentence would be: Pilgrims brought many provisions, such as food. I found this passage so absurd and misguided and weirdly sadistic--and so potentially harmful to teenagers--and I needed to go off and tell some kid that the phrase "meats and vegetables" was problematic. I had to lie! I think, deep down, this is why I injured my own car.

I have learned nothing from this experience. I'm not at all convinced I'll refrain from "sinning again." I'm not laughing. I haven't learned that material possessions are truly worthless, and that it's interpersonal bonds that really constitute "the meat of our lives." I wish I could say otherwise.

This Christmas deeply, deeply sucks. My idea of glamour is a trip to CVS, where I persuade myself I need a scented candle, and ten to fifteen minutes tick by.

Ah, well. Next year in Paris.....

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