Yet another day was beginning. The house was quiet.
The windows were shut but she could hear the sound of her neighbor's lawn mover. "What was he doing up so early?," she thought. "Does'nt he have anything better to do with his life? All the time out in the yard!"
Of course, like all her outbursts, this one too had nothing to do with the real issue irking her.
How these little things upset her equilibrium these days! She could no longer just relax and take things in stride. Everything was a plot to upset her.
Increasingly, the feeling of worthlessness was creeping in. She knew she should do things a little differently with her life. But inertia was keeping her back. Atleast, for the moment it was better for her self-esteem to just blame the inertia.
One thing at a time, you see.
It was not that she was not capable. She was prone to drift off into periods of depression.
She was finding it hard to be good to herself.
They had planned to take a weekend trip to Virginia. They did not have to leave till later in the afternoon, but she still had a lot of chores to get through.
She had to finish packing and cook some lunch. The DVDs had to be returned and a package had to be mailed. It was very tempting to do these stopovers on the way to Virginia, but she knew they would not leave on time.
This would further delay them. So she decided, she was going to get this over with before they left.
By 10a.m., she had finished a lot more than what she had planned. She had cooked lunch and done a bit of cleaning. She was getting ready to take a shower and head out when the phone rang. Her friend from Virginia wanted the recipe for her bread pudding.
"It will be the perfect dessert for this fall day," she said. Of course the lady of this story could have given the recipe to her friend. But on an impulse, she said, "Oh please! I will make it and bring. You can heat it up in the oven once I get there."
So, it happened that she was rounding up the ingredients to make bread pudding.
She was perfectly happy to do so, till she realized that after all, she would have to stop at the post office and Blockbusters on her way to Virginia.
At 3 p.m., one hour later than the planned time of departure, they loaded up the stuff in the trunk and were on their way.
Oops! Take a U turn and head back home.
Pick up the bread pudding from the oven.
Stop at the post office.
Fill the car up with gas. Another thing that should have been done yesterday.
Drop the DVDs off at Blockbusters.
"Do you have any cash?" "Do we need cash?" "Might as well, draw some since the bank is on the way."
Finally, off we go!
Why could she not be better organized?
Now they were going to reach an hour late at her friend's place.
CRASH!
The car spun a couple of times, moving over to the other side of the highway. She could see it hit a dump truck, grazing its rear end. That force was enough to set the car spinning once more, pushing it to the shoulder. The car slid on the slick wet mud of the lawn. It hit the front steps of the house leading up to the porch.
The car was now standing on someone's front lawn hedged in between some bushes.
She looked back. The rear window had broken into tiny pieces and sprayed itself all over the back seat.
People had stopped on the highway. The first to reach her was the driver of the massive pickup truck that had broad-ended her car.
"Are you all okay? I did not see you."
"ARE YOU CRAZY??!!??! HOW COULD YOU HAVE NOT SEEN US?" It was all that she could muster.
The man quietly retreated back to his truck, opening up his cell phone.
Before she could get her phone out to call the police, one of the witnesses came running up and said that he was part of a volunteer first aid squad and that he had informed the police. He was followed by a fireman. All passing by on the highway this afternoon.
She tried the door on the driver's side. It was jammed shut. The people pushed the car forward away from the hedges so she could get out from the passenger's side.
Shaken and terribly stirred, she climbed out and surveyed the mess. A piece of fender from the pick up truck was hanging off the side, jammed between the doors.
The car had taken the impact remarkably well. She had not felt anything inside the car. What had shaken her was the near-death experience.
She could see herself wafting away from life while spinning in the car. Nothing else had registered, till the car had come to a stop.
The pick up truck was trying to cross the highway to join the northbound traffic. He did not look back to see her car. Instead his attention was focussed on beating the dump truck hurtling towards him on the south bound side of the highway.
He hit her car bang in the middle. He had narrowly missed the fuel tank.
If he had hit the tank, it would have been a different story. If the dump truck had braked a little earlier, the car would have hit it causing a major collision. If there had been heavy traffic, there would have been a mangled mess.
If the car had not hit the rear end of the dump truck, it would have not been pushed to the shoulder, away from the traffic.
If only they had left as planned at 2 a.m., they would have missed the pick up truck trying to make a quick turn. If only they had not made those stopovers.
If..If..If..
Life takes on a whole new meaning.
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