Flat tire

It's been quite a day. As I pulled out of my driveway this morning I noticed that my car was sounding kind of funny, but it was camouflaged a bit by the crunch of packed snow. It wasn't until I pulled off the snowy side-street onto the cleared, busy one that it became really obvious. I drove slowly to the nearest place to pull over, and confirmed that I did, in fact, have a completely flat tire. I sat for a few moments in my car and then turned around and drove very slowly and cautiously back home.

Once home, I didn't know what to do. I called my dad in New Brunswick, but he was on his way out. I didn't want him to hear me really upset and make him feel bad about not being able to help me from such a distance, so I didn't say much.

I sat for a while on the love-seat in our living room, just looking out the window at my flat tire. I didn't know what to do. Should I try to get it to a gas station to put air in the tire? It was sitting on the rim, and I was afraid of damaging it, so I sat there, frozen. Most people I knew to call for help were either at work or away.

I thought of one friend nearby who could at least give me some advice, and I was afraid of being an annoyance, but I sucked it up and called anyway. He wisely advised me not to drive on the rim, but to put on my spare tire until I could bring the flat one into a tire shop. He told me that changing a tire is simple, and walked me through step-by-step instructions on how to do it. As I listened, I took deep gulps of air to keep from bursting into tears, and tried to keep my voice from getting too high-pitched. He was busy with work, but said he would check on me later on to see how it went. He sounded much more confident than I was, but I faked it, reluctant to show just how upset and needy I was.

So out I went, faithfully. I found my spare tire, jack, etc in the trunk and my spirits raised a little. "Maybe I can do this thing," I thought. I popped off the centre thing and started working on the bolts. And that's as far I got. I couldn't budge them.

At 1:30am as I write this, my car is still out there, with one flat tire. I've been moody and grumpy all evening (my poor roommates). I cried quite a bit. I usually avoid publicly admitting to crying, but I'm too tired to care.

I know it's just a flat tire, but I wish there was a way to explain how frustrating it is to feel so helpless and needy. I hate feeling like a burden, and wish that I could just do some of these things on my own, but when I try, I find myself making decisions that are inexplicably stupid, or else I am frozen into inaction. I am not a prissy girly-girl. I don't want to be a dumb, helpless girl... but sometimes that's what I am and I hate it. I just wish my dad was here because he'd take care of me.