(Un)happy Moment(s)

It's six thirteen in the morning, it's freezing, we're late leaving to seminary. I'm sitting in the van, freezing to death, while Mr. Brain Power (he's ornery and made me stop calling him "Muscles") is outside (poor guy) scraping the ice off the window with a scraper that is (apparently) broken. The windshield is as good as it gets, as are the side windows. I can still see out of it enough to drive just down the street, right? Heh.

I glance impatiently at the clock, mentally kicking myself for allowing both of us to sleep in. "Just get in the van, we're late!" I yell. Mr. BP jumps in and slams the door. Putting the van into drive I hastily ask BP, "Am I clear?" "Yeah, there's nothing behind you - you're clear," he answers, teeth chattering. I carefully try to maneuver our hunk of a van out of the driveway. I back out into the road, with no seeming threat of other, smaller vehicles. 

* Crash *

Both of us gasp.

* Facepalm *

* Blood rushes down to my toes *

"Why?!" My mind screams. "Oh, snap!!!" I turn to Mr. BP, in shock.

"Go see if there's any damage," I snap.

Mr. BP gets out and checks the car behind us. "Oh, there's damage alright. You nearly took the blinker out!"

"Oh, snap, oh, snap, oh SNAP. . . ." * Sigh * "Get in," I order softly.

"We can't just leave it!" Mr. BP looks at me, astonished.

"We have to, we're late, and it's way too early anyway! Get in, and we'll come back as soon as we get home from seminary."

I yell at Mr. BP, and he yells at me, on the ride to seminary. I feel like crawling into a hole and never coming out, ever. This day was already turning out to be a difficult one for me, and now this.

I am a nervous wreck all of seminary. I feel ready to burst into tears at any moment. I look at Mr. BP and a huge wave of guilt rushes over me. Yelling and fighting is no way to solve a problem. I thought I understood that. I guess not.

Ironically, the lesson is on building Zion.

"Think about something you have done today to build Zion, and then write in your journals one thing you can improve on when you leave seminary this morning," the teacher says, all smiley and happy.

I can feel Mr. BP glaring at me from his seat.

I pull out my journal and write with a shaking hand, red face, and tearful eyes:

"Be more faithful in tribulation. Take responsibility for my actions. Be completely honest in all my dealings with others."

I feel absolutely terrible, and the confrontation at home with both the owner of the car and my mother isn't going to make it any better.

I'm silent all the way home.

I get home, pull into the driveway, and shiver my way across the street.

We knock. 

I'm crying before they even open the door.

They answer.

"Is that car on the side of the road yours?" I ask in a timid, pathetic voice.

"Um, yeah-"

"I damaged it this morning. I really sorry I didn't come by sooner, but it was so early, I was late, and I'm sure you were asleep," I rush.

"Come in and sit down. Let me get my son - it's his car," my neighbor says in a sincerely sweet voice, as if I had simply picked a flower from her garden without first asking permission.

I don't reply as she turns to bring her son up from downstairs. Sitting limply on her couch, staring at the wall in front of me, I go through the conversation I will soon have with my neighbor's son. I start to cry again. "This is ridiculous," I murmur.

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 "Mother, I need our insurance information. I hit our neighbor's car this morning going to seminary, and-"

"You did what?! I told you to be careful backing out. You can't take it so wide. You-"

* Sobbing * Please don't yell at me! I can't handle this! I know, I did something really stupid. I get it! It's not like you've never done something like this before. Don't you remember hitting that truck while backing out of the parking lot at Costco last week?" 

* Sigh *

"We need to get the information out to our neighbor," I continue, "And we need to hurry. I really don't want to be late for school. . . ."

"Actually, I don't think I even want to go to school this week. I think I'll just stay home and cry."

* Sob *

* * * * * * * * * * * 

"I'm sure this will be more than a thousand dollars worth of damage," mother tells the owner of the car."

I gasp.

He looks at me, and in a reassuring tone says, "Don't worry. It's not that bad. I completely totaled a car two days after I got it." He sort of smiles.

I'm thinking, "Was that supposed to make me feel better about this whole thing?! Hello!!"

Mother hands him our insurance agent's card and tells the owner to call the agent and he'll take care of everything. He says something else and mother replies. I don't hear any of it. I stare at the car in disbelief, turn away in tears, and stumble into the house.

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Well, after more yelling, more rude comments flung at the walls, more crying and moaning, and a nice big hug (or two), I head off to school, in a better mood than I was in earlier, but still determined to have a terrible, emotional, "poor me" day.

Of course, it's difficult to keep that kind of attitude when you get bagels for breakfast, you learn "Jingle Bells" in violin class, and you have the most amazing friends and teachers. * Wink * 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(I think) everything is taken care of with the damaged car, so I feel much better about that. I sincerely apologized to Mr. BP and Mother, and vice versa, and I don't feel so guilty anymore. And, I had a fabulous (rest of the) day, with only a few near-bawling sessions. 

Oh, so then, after a great day at school, a nice nap with pleasant dreams of finally getting caught up in biology, and, other things, I arrived home and realized that my family and I were locked out of the house. 

* Facepalm, again *

That was my charming, lovely, wonderful day.

:)