I first placed it in my Amazon shopping cart a little over a year ago. Every time I had a some extra money, a gift or whatever, I earmarked it as "Lens Money." Nickels and dimes and pennies slowly added up, but then life got in the way and some of those nickels and dimes and pennies fell through my fingers and into the laps of those fortunate enough to profit from our unexpected expenses. One step forward. Two steps back. Little-by-little, I inched my way towards my goal of being able to pay for that lens, but really kept getting nowhere fast.
I was still a long ways from getting there when Mr. Husband up and bought it for me last week. Just like that. Apparently, if I whine about something long enough, he will make it magically all better for me.
Behold . . . George! (Yes, I named my new lens. What of it?)
Isn't he amazing? YES, YES HE IS.
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Riding high on thoughts of the new hunk of plastic and glass that would be greeting me when I got home later that evening, I cruised down the road with the sunroof open and the music turned up a little louder than necessary. The old beat-up sedan in front of me slowly navigated the curves of the road, but I was too happy to care that the car was barely crawling along. When I heard a little *popping* sound, I thought to myself that the owner of the junk-mobile blocking my path should probably go get their car looked at.
And then I realized I no longer had power steering. Just as that wonderful nugget of knowledge made its way to my brain, the power failure light on my dashboard lit up.
FANTASTIC.
Somehow I managed to get my car into a parking lot, but not before realizing that for as much as I hate my car, it obviously hates me more.
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As I opened the small white envelope, I smiled. While I knew we were about to have to spend entirely too much money getting my car towed to the dealership so that the serpentine belt could get replaced, the contents of the envelope were sure to at least somewhat offset the stroke of bad luck. Money you weren't expecting is ALWAYS a good thing, no matter the amount. And really, the little bit of unexpected money that found its way into my hands was most definitely a Very Good Thing.
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I travel the road at least four times every single day. Nearly half the time, a police officer sits tucked back behind some bushes on the side of the road, diligently waiting for law breakers to pass him by. I know he's there. He's ALWAYS there. I. do. not. speed. on. that. road.
And yet, as I passed the very well-known speed trap, the lights on top of the police officer's car jumped to life.
As the officer wrote me that blasted speeding ticket, all I could think of is that it HAD to have happened because I wasn't driving my car. I so very rarely drive Mr. Husband's SUV that I truly don't know the vehicle like I know mine. The speed trap sits at the bottom of a very steep hill, so I suspect that Mr. Husband's SUV must pick up more speed while coasting downhill than my car does. I certainly didn't feel like I was travelling 15mph over the posted speed limit.
So much for that extra money.
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I don't like roller coasters, metaphorically or literally. So how about somebody lets me off?
