Zigga – Zig – Ahhhhhh
I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want, I wanna…I wanna…I wanna…I wanna…um, I don’t know.
…and that’s the problem.
This weekend was when I drove Dusty down to the Cape to live with my parents (whether permanent or temporary is still unknown). I’ve written here before about the frustrating episodes we’ve had with Dusty. From peeing on our bed, to barking; from crying (nay, howling) when we leave to me having to wear ear plugs at night, I had never realized how much work was involved in being a pet-owner. Although my family always had a dog throughout my childhood, I was never the main care-giver.
Anyway, you’d think that after all of my kvetching, I’d be relieved that she is now living with my parents. WRONG! I’m actually missing her. I’m not feeling sad for her because I know she’s getting more attention than ever now that she’s with my retired father and semi-retired mother. But our condo does seem a bit empty now without her running to greet me, kissing me, following me from room to room and even (in recent weeks) laying on my lap peacefully.
But I find it frustrating that I’m only now realizing this. I think this is a perfect example of why I need to sort my own shit out. Like I said in my posting on Oct. 28th (the “break-up” posting), I really don’t know who I am anymore. I’m cranky, moody and, quite honestly, selfish. And that’s not who I want to be. But I think I need to work that out on my own and not subject other people (especially Matt) to that process. As evidenced by the past year or two, it’s dragging him down, too.
So, I’m moving on, and moving up.
Well, except for the damn rental car I got over the weekend. National Car Rental gave me a Chevrolet Aveo. First, I had no clue Chevrolet still existed. Second, based on this car, I can see why I thought they no longer existed. The Aveo must be the Yugo (or, since this was a Chevrolet, the Chevette) of the new millennium. There was no arm rest in the front seat and every time I drove over patches in the road (where frost-heaves previously existed or construction work was paved over) it sounded as if I was riding on train tracks.
But the worst thing was that Friday was very windy. For those of you in the northeast, you may recall that we had wind gusts in excess of 52 miles an hour Friday. Well, driving my little Aveo over the Cape Cod Canal (Sagamore Bridge) made me realize why it’s called Aveo….it’s for aviation. This freaking car felt like it was about to become airborne as I reached the top of the bridge. Hell, the whole ride required my hands at the 10 and 2 position to prevent the car from swerving into the adjacent lanes of traffic, but I swear I felt the car lift when I was at the top of the bridge.
I did make it to the Cape and back – even without the aid of flight attendants or pilots.
6 Comments
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Karl, I am so ashamed to associate with you after reading your comment about not knowing that Chevy was still around. Chevrolet is an American Revolution, after all. How could someone living in the place of the REAL revolution not have noticed that marketing ploy?
About the Aveo: These cars are actually a delayed result of GM’s 2002 takeover of part of bankrupt Daewoo. Daewoo, in case you are wondering, was another South Korean carmaker, late to the party behind Hyundai and Kia, and never had a viable distribution network in the U.S. (or really, a business plan of any kind). As they are intended as
Karl—
I’m glad you didn’t go hand gliding off the Sagamore Bridge in your Aveo. I actually haven’t seen one of those, but at least I know Chevy still exists. Come on Karl, it belongs to a little group called GM? You know, Chevy, Buick, Saab, HUMMER, Saturn…….
I’d listen to the Chicago David. He knows his stuff. And of my god, don’t even tell me you were using the vibrations of the road to …….if your hands weren’t at 10 and 2…..
David in Boston
well, you it really is like joni mitchell sang — “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”
sad, but true.
I thought i was going to be blown over on my walk to work Friday. I was wearing a long skirt and it thought it was a sail.
I guess it’s good you miss Dusty. I mean, how awful would it be if you *didn’t* miss her at all, when you’d initially meant to keep her forever? I think it’s also only natural to miss the better parts of something once you no longer have to deal with it. Owning a pet is one of those things that’s a ton of work, with unquantifiable reward. If you’re busy and don’t have a lot of downtime for yourself (like you are), having an obligation of a pet can be more chore than labor of love. So please don’t blame yourself about Dusty.
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