Thursday, February 7, 2008

I'm okay, you're okay

So last night when I was coming home from campus late (after finally finishing an incredibly long day in which I solidified my social work preliminary exam committee, attended seminar and lecture and ran the GSI meeting for 101, wrote a reading response to the articles on consumerism and the "thaw" for seminar this week, talked for a couple hours with three other women from my tiny program to share advice, ideas, and commiseration, and wrote my exam questions for the Anthro 101 exam), my car slid off the road into a snowbank and I couldn't get it out.

It was no more than five feet off the road, and not very deeply stuck in the snow, and I wasn't injured at all in the process (I was going very slowly, because I knew I had little control on the snow-covered road that desperately needed plowing). But still, there I was, in freezing temperatures, at 2:30 in the morning, an undetermined distance (but, I figured, no more than a mile) away from my cottage, and the car was at an awkward incline and I wasn't completely confident it wasn't going to slide further. Since it's lake country up here, and it was pitch black, I was concerned sliding further might mean landing into a small body of water of some kind. I looked in my bag, rather flustered, and didn't see my wallet, either (I realized later it was in my jacket pocket, duh!), and so I didn't even have the number for AAA. Not that I relished the thought of waiting 45 minutes or more for a truck to come out to help.

So what did I do? I called Mom. Poor Mom, she's gotten so many calls from me over the years that I know cause her no end of worry. She didn't offer any new advice I hadn't considered already, but it was comforting to talk to her anyway.

I had a flashlight and an extra down vest to put over my long down coat, and Yak Trax to put over my boots to give me super grip against the snow and ice. By the time I was all suited up, I thought I would have no trouble walking the distance back home. I probably could have slept right there on the ice without freezing.

I left my hazards on knowing that my battery would be dead by morning, but figuring that wouldn't be a problem since I'd need roadside assistance to get the car winched out, anyway. And just as I was about to set out, a car finally came along the road. I wiggled my flashlight at him, he stopped, he kindly gave me a ride to the driveway to my subdivision, and I was in bed in no time. Knowing then that there was no way on Earth I'd make it to Archaeology if I wanted to sleep at all, I gave up on my hope of making it to class for once, didn't set an alarm, and had about seven hours of blessed, uninterrupted sleep in my bed.

When I got up at 10:30, I called AAA, and they ordered a towing service to come out. It took them about two hours to come, but they did, and the process of extraction and start-up was relatively painless. THEN, I had to get home and shovel out the big pile of snow so I would have a place to PUT the car. And I had a devil of a time getting it into the spot, because it was so snowy and icy, and the car just kept sliding around. By the time I got it parked, it had to be about 2:00. I came in and made chilaquiles, heated a little milk to drink with yesterday's coffee, sat and ate that and some leftover roasted broccoli while watching an old episode of Battlestar Galactica on the couch, and went back to bed until 4, because by then I felt so exhausted, I hardly knew what to do with myself.

I showered and dressed and came to campus after that, and basically started my day at 5:00. Man, what a waste. But I secretly kind of needed a day off, I think. Not exactly the way I would have spent it, all things being equal, but it wasn't too bad, in the end.

. . .

Now I'm sitting here, thinking about my paper on participation and Romani citizenship in East Central Europe. And pretty soon, I'll go meet a friend for a drink and maybe a bite at Leopold's. I'll have to catch up on Lost over streaming media.

In other news, the New York Times wrote an article about Hungarian Romani artists the other day.