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Should Have Gone Climbing - Jen Vennon

Should Have Gone Climbing - Jen Vennon
March 21, 2012 - 

Last weekend I had the opportunity to get outside and go climbing and I didn’t take it. Dumb I know.

Instead I decided to stay home and work on a nagging bathroom revamp that had been dragging on and seriously needed finishing. I hated to spend a perfect sunny day spackling, painting, and fiddling with wires but it had to get done.


After applying a final layer of plaster to the wall I decided I’d run into town and grab a few painting supplies while the plaster dried. I jumped in the car and headed to my new home away from home, Lowes. Apparently the police officer that clocked me going 71 in a 55mph has never been in the midst of a bathroom make-over and didn’t understand the urgency of getting to Lowes, now. He wrote me a ticket and sent me on my not-so-happy way.

I was grateful that is was the middle of the day, because I had a headlight out and this cop was not the type that would let something like that slide. Knowing that this day wasn’t a lucky one for me, I decided it would be in my best interest to get my headlight fixed before having to drive in the dark my next day at work.

It is important to note at this point that I drive a 2004 Nissan Maxima. It is NOT a 2001 Nissan Maxima. That’s important. In my frazzled post-speeding ticket mind I got that mixed up when I went to buy the light bulb for my car.

The headlamp on a 2004 Nissan Maxima is extremely difficult to change, as the nice man and the gas station and I soon found out. After two hours of disassembling my car (I’m talking front bumper off, wheel wells removed, and countless screws and thingy majigs on the ground) we discovered that the light bulb I purchased did not fit.

I start calling everyone I can think of, but of course no one answers because they are all out CLIMBING. . . where I should be!  I have no idea how I’m going to get the correct bulb since my car is in pieces and there isn’t a place within walking distance. So my hero, the gas station man, installs me in the front seat of the tow truck and starts driving me around town looking for light bulb number 2012.

No one has it. In fact, the closest light bulb that will fit my car is in California and won’t be here for 3 days!

With my tail tucked between my legs and my eyes starting to water from sheer embarrassment we return to the gas station and re-assemble my car. . .with the broken bulb.

I didn’t arrive home to continue work on my bathroom until everyone was already back from climbing. I basically saved myself no time at all.

I should have gone climbing . . . that’s always the right choice.


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