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Context: I live in New England, where winter is long and filled with snow. I’ve never been good at driving in snow; despite snow tires I’ve had to be pulled out of a ditch twice in seven years. My perusal of YouTube videos on this topic helped some, but not much, and I continue to be an anxious wintertime driver. Two things have recently changed in this regard: one, I got a new car a month ago and for the first time have a car worth worrying about; two, my friend Josh has promised to teach me how to drive in snow and ice, education to which I am very much looking forward.
Like Being on Board the USS Enterprise
The snow started hitting my windshield as I signaled to turn out of my therapist’s parking lot for the drive home.
Big, fat flakes; the kind that make a beautiful pattern on the windshield, tiny masterpieces that glisten just long enough to appreciate how lovely they are before they melt and vanish forever.
It was 8pm on the dot, seven minutes after my session ended.
My new car is still a fun toy, especially the technical bells and whistles. My bluetooth hearing aids mean that the female computer voice speaks directly into my ears, which is a lot of fun when dictating texts, including the texting-myself-as-note-taking habit I’ve had for years, or having “her” read received texts back to me.
Your message to Holly says: “pickles on grocery list, order more eye drops, write proof of infinite primes for number theory lesson for Carol.”
Your message to Josh says: “It’s a wonder any of us keep our goddamn sanity.” Send it?
What do you want to say to Dr. Roller Gator?