Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Becoming Miss Independent

Like any other ordinary day, I went to start up my truck. Now, I love this truck. I'm from the South, so of course I have a truck to make Texas proud. She is a jacked up Chevy 4x4 Super Crew and makes grown men jealous that a woman drives her. Since I am from Texas, I used remote start so it wouldn't be too cold when I got in. (This works well because in the evening when I leave work, it will cool the truck when it's hot outside. Texas is dumb like that.) After a few minutes I got in my truck and as I shifted to drive, it made this horrible dinging noise that indicated something was wrong. Oh no!!!!

I checked the gauges to see what was wrong. An alert read left RR tire low add air to tire. At that point I started to panic. The day before I had run over a wild hog and may have damaged my truck with realizing it. Now before you picture a cute little micro pig with a rain coat, that is not what this was. Wild hogs are massive (100-400 pounds fully grown), cause a lot of damage, and carry nasty diseases. We have a huge issue with them here in Texas, so don't feel bad for Petey the Pig. If I had been in my husband's Mustang, it would have been destroyed because this piggy was huge! I exited my truck and checked for damage - I found none. *Sigh*. At that point, I asked my husband to check on it. What else is he there for, right?

Well, my husband was not able to check on it because he ended up in the hospital. No big deal, right? YES, IT IS! I have never learned how to take care of traditional "manly" tasks because I always had someone to do them for me. Putting air in a tire is quite simple, but how do I know how much? I know there is that tire pressure checker thingy, but what is it even telling me? How do I know what it means and how do I find out what the number on it should say? Why is it in pounds? Air isn't heavy! God forbid I ever get a flat. Then, I am fucked.

I should have learned how to take care of things, like checking tire pressure, adding air, changing a tire, changing a light bulb, and other things that are usually left to men. (I may, or may not, be kidding about that last one.) In my 36 years of living, I assumed someone else would do these things for me. But what if no one is around to help? My husband's illness and subsequent recovery time have been a wakeup call for me.

Now if you will excuse me, I have to do some Googling to find out how in the hell to make my tires happy!

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