Friends of mine who have gone abroad have all started a blog to document their journey. In one month's time I am going to be living in Ecuador for two months, so I thought I'd start a blog of my own.
This will be good for me, I think. I have always turned to writing to get my thoughts out of my head.
So today at work I was driving the big catering van. I always drive the oldest, most beat up van that we have, and here's why: I parked between another car and a concrete pillar, and somehow managed to get the van completely wedged in against the pillar. Now, if there had been another car there, that wouldn't have happened (I hope). My strategy for unsticking myself was to just reverse and hope for the best. This guy taking a smoke break came over and knocked on my window and was like, "Do you need some help? Because I just watched you take off half of your van." I always end up getting help from a stranger at these events, always. Half the time they even end up driving the van out for me. I just give up and surrender the keys to a complete stranger because anything is better than my driving at that point.
Anyway, this man of course knows exactly what to do and how to maneuver to get out of my mess of a situation. How do men know these things. The van is left with a couple major gashes along the side. These aren't just little scratches in the paint. These are metal baring wounds that will rust badly later on. Oh, and the door hangs even more crookedly than it did before - but it still locks, so it's good as far as I'm concerned.
I toyed with the idea of blaming on another car - I was in a parking garage, after all. But other cars don't leave gashes like that. And another car would have left their own paint residue. So I didn't lie. I told my boss in a text. I feel like that's worse than breaking up with someone via text message. But at least I did the right thing by telling her and not trying to lie about it. Right?
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