Interestingly enough, I came into contact with my own mortality today. More than interestingly enough, I'm fine, nothing really happened to me directly that would cause such a surge of recognition and, I'll admit, fear. No, the onlything to blame even slightly was Mother Nature (or Utah drivers, take your pick) and Her snowy tendencies here.
This test of my psychological mettle occured as I was driving to work this afternoon. My day had already been a little stressful (joining the ranks of the hurdles included banking problems, running out of gas, and subsequently buying a shoddy gas can), so I had bought an energy drink to help me get more energetic while taking the edge of my headache a bit. But I digress.
Main street passed slowly by as I gripped the wheel under my snow gloves. Vehicles around me caused me as much ire around me as my own car; people went either too fast or too slow, and my car didn't handle the lack of traction well. As I turned on to the on-ramp, slightly too fast, the rear of my car switched orientation with the front, leaving me to the right of the ramp, on the road, but uncomfortably facing those attempting to board I-15.
I waved them on by, my car hardly blocking their way, then returned to Main. I wasn't irrtated that such a thing would happen, instead opting to take an on ramp up the way a little. With no trouble, I gained a spot on the highway, and began my tedious journey to work. Vehicular monstrosities passed me to my left, whilst the similarly-sized cars plodded steadily forward directly in front of me. The road itself maintained an unhealty amount of snow between and in the middle of the lanes. Switching between rock and talk on the radio did little to abate my growing tension.
As I held my Pontiac steady in the middle lane, an interesting thought struck me. Should I have veered slightly to the right or slightly to the left, whether the change in course originated from an unchecked sneeze or an involuntary muscle twitch, I would quickly be in a rather sticky, unavoidable situation, and despite the relatively slow speeds to which my fellow commuters held, my life would hang by a thread.
Quite sobering, this realization. My grip steeled on the wheel, my jaw clenching as I sat back with a startled look on my face. I breathed, too preoccupied with keeping my bearing in line with that of the lane's to shake my head. I paid attention to the radio, glancing all around me as trucks passed. At one point, I hit a pothole and nearly went into shock.
However, of course, I arrived at work safely, no harm done. I pulled one hand off the rim of the steering wheel and then the other, turned off the radio, then the heat (without which, I probably would have frozen completely to the wheel), then the car. Leaning forward for the keys seemed to have unfrozen my knees; I managed to step out of the car and straighten after I unfastened my seatbelt. Then I stiffly walked into work.
Now, here I sit. My muscles have ceased their protestations to moving after being held contracted so long. I'm quite calm, but the thoughts on life that had been swarming suddenly in my mind on the freeway are fresh in my mind. Actually, I'm nearly itching to get writing, as I think it would work well in a story I had been working on. Unfortunately, it's on my laptop, and I am at my work PC. Somethings just have to wait.
*sigh*
