As I grow older, it becomes more and more apparent that my life is merely a collection of the unexpected strung together by a thread of randomness. And as much as I have tried to be a planner, my plans have a way of unraveling faster than a ball of yarn. It seems Wile E. Coyote would have been a more appropriate name for me.
In true Wile E. fashion, I have spent the past couple of weeks amounting a series of failed ventures to call my own. And it all began with the brilliant idea to hop a bus heading down to Brownsville. The plan was to grab my favorite ginger, hitch a ride down south, and turn right around in my brand new (slightly used) car that was waiting for me at my parents’ house. I’d be back in time for a few hours of shuteye before work the next morning and everything would be golden. I never realized life had other plans.
That Thursday our journey began with a frustrating wait in a ticket line that rivaled that of the DMV. After 20 minutes of frantically watching the hands on the clock inch closer and closer to our departure time, I finally worked up the courage to squeeze through to the front of the line in an effort to reach the abandoned kiosks awkwardly positioned behind a rope at the front of the ticket counter. It’s as if the bus station wanted to conduct a social experiment. How long will these fools wait in line before realizing they have another option?
Once our tickets finally printed out, we made a mad dash to the bus where we promptly began playing waiting game number two. The bus was full of passengers, the door was shut, and the driver was no where in sight. After what seemed to be another year of my life, the driver appeared offering me some attitude for the ride. Apparently, this man in uniform was not swayed by my charmingly awkward ways. Perhaps, frantic is not his style. Or maybe I was suppose to avoid eye contact and slip him the tickets on the sly like a shady drug deal. Either way, I’m glad I didn’t get charged extra for that attitude add on.
Ignoring my arch nemesis at the front of the bus, Troy and I grabbed the first available seats we could find, which happened to be behind the reclining seat of a rather large man. This meant that the next 5 hours were spent perfecting an uncomfortable shuffle in our seats, while rubbing our aching legs. I’m pretty sure Troy was ready to kiss the ground when we gloriously hobbled off the bus. You know, if he hadn’t been reduced to walking like a 90 year old.
However, there is one thing that will always make me forget my troubles. Food, especially delicious Mexican food. I’m drooling just thinking about it. Trust me, it did not disappoint!
Good food equals good mood!
Then came the call. My sister was having some stomach pains, which meant the arrival of my 2nd niece wasn’t too far away. Plan A was no longer an option. The new plan consisted of Troy and I driving my mom up to Austin to take care of my 1st niece. ETA 4 AM, which meant no work for me in the morning.
After loading up my brand new (to me) Prius, we set off to see what that baby could really do. Little did we know that it would be the test drive of a lifetime.
Somewhere near San Antonio, just after I relinquished my driving duties to Troy, we stumbled into the ‘perfect storm.’ The night sky lit up brighter than Elton John’s wardrobe nearly blinding our inferior eyes. Of course, the first time in years that I’m in a vehicle the size of Hot Wheels and it turns into my own personal ark. Somehow we managed to make it to Austin without being carried off to sea. Then began the trek back towards San Antonio and my bed. After being awake for over 24 hours, my bed was screaming my name. It’s a clingy little thing.
By noon, I was returning to the land of the living and my niece was making her world debut. Boy, do I have one hell of a story to tell her when she gets older!
She basically ruined all of my plans. I didn’t return home in time for work. I didn’t return to the blogging world that week because I was busy driving to and from Austin. And I didn’t even complete her baby blanket in time for her newborn photo shoot. But babies change everything. And we’re much better for it.
So, my plans may not always work out, but sometimes plan B is even better.
