UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

NEW SPECIMENS OLD SPECIMENS THE SCIENTIST MY LOG CONTACT ME
2002-08-03 - 6:04 a.m.

I�M SURE I�M INSANE

At times, I wonder if I am insane. At other times, I am sure I am insane. Right now, I�m in the middle of one of those times. I�ve been telling Mr. Philately my troubles since last Monday but he didn�t believe me until today. Heck, if I had been him, I would have thought I was joking too but I�m not. I�m afraid to drive the brand-new Camry that we bought.

I thought my troubles were over when we bought the Camry. Never before have we bought a car together without fighting. This time, I saw nothing that I felt strongly enough about to disagree. He decided on a Camry. He then decided on a new one (which surprised me but I decided not to fight it.) He found the Camry. He bargained for the Camry. We both nearly lost it when we had trouble finding the lien release for our trade-in but we didn�t even fight about that. We just kept looking through files until we found it. It wasn�t exactly filed in the wrong place, just in an unlikely place in retrospect.

I�ve only owned a few new cars. Most of the cars we�ve bought have been bought used. I�ve never had trouble driving a new-to-us car. I had a little trouble driving my Chevette when I first bought it and my Escort when I first bought it but it wasn�t as bad as the problem I�m having now. Perhaps the difference was that those cars were mine alone. I don�t remember having a problem this big with the Reliant but the Reliant was a lemon and owning it was so traumatic that I have pushed a lot of things about the Reliant out of my memory.

The problem is that I am afraid of getting the first ding in the car. No, it�s not what you�re thinking. I�m not at all afraid of Mr. Philately�s reaction. He�s not likely to have one. He figures that there will be a first ding. He�s mentally prepared for a first ding. He knows that you don�t actually have to do anything other than leave the car parked in a lot to get the first ding. No, this craziness is all my own. The prospect of ruining perfection is just too daunting.

If I were a perfectionist, I might understand my reaction but I�m not. I was perfectly happy driving a van that had the paint falling off in strips. Obviously, I�m not afraid of having a car that others won�t consider good enough. Somehow, somewhere this problem must tap into my lack of confidence in my driving but deep down I know that I am a good enough driver. I�m at least an average driver. It�s not completely about the lack of confidence.

I thought it was just a harmless feeling until noon today. Mr. Philately left me the new car this morning. I drove it around doing errands and feeling vaguely uneasy. Then we met at a deli for lunch. We met on the lunch date because I�m leaving him behind when Day-Hay and I go off to San Antonio for the week. (Kat is still at camp.) After lunch ended, I found myself giving him the car keys and urging him to take the new car. I said I�d take the Corolla. Driving the new car made me too nervous. The suspense of waiting for the first ding was too much.

He looked at me incredulously. He knows I occasionally lose my mind (or his mind if you count the fact that we believe we share a brain.) But he wasn�t expecting this one (although he was perfectly happy to take the new car.) �You�re serious, aren�t you,� he said (or something like it�I can�t remember the exact words.) And I was. And I am.

Boy, I sure hope he drives the car all over this week and gets a little ding while I�m gone. I�d be relieved. Let others spell relief R-O-L-A-I-D-S. I spell relief D-I-N-G. So let him drive and let the car get a ding while I�m gone. My mental health depends on it.

LAST YEAR: Painting Therapy

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