Wheels. I haz.
October 27, 2012 § Leave a comment
In 2005, I was faced with a choice.
Continue the path towards an undergraduate degree and sell my car or pick up a full-time job, quit school, and keep the car. It was not easy, but I got rid of the car. And thus began my love-hate relationship with asking for help to get myself around while also using public transportation.
Let’s not joke around. It was mostly a hate relationship. Asking for help from others is something that I really really struggled with and still sometimes have a hard time doing. I’m quick to help someone else, but heaven forbid I need the extra hands. It’s gotten easier, for sure, and delegating is saving my sanity in this latest season. But, it took a LOT of teeth pulling to get here.
When I moved to Raleigh, the bus and I became BFF. One job was an hour away in Durham on the TTA bus. I would fight screaming children at the portrait studio I spent way too long at (three months), ride the bus home, run to my apartment, change clothes, and take the CAT bus down the hill to the mall for the night job. Once I got a job with the government downtownish, it was three bus rides each way. But, to me, school was worth it. My education was worth the walking and walking and walking. I’ve definitely complained and had “moments”. But as I prepare to walk across the stage in December, I want to meet every single adult on the PLANET thinking about going back to school, take them by the shoulders, look them in the eye, and let them know THAT IT IS TOTALLY WORTH IT.
The macaroni and cheese for over half of your meals, the schlepping, the running after the bus banging on the window, the early mornings, all of it. Even the time I got dropped off at 245am to learn I couldn’t get in to my apartment.
Ok, quick sidebar.
So, I leave the house at 9am one day last fall. I ran some errands, did homework, met with an adviser. Went to three classes in the afternoon and met a friend who bear hugs me like a grizzly for some Chipotle. Hit the studio for six or seven hours and took the bus home. At 245am, it’s the very last one of the night. I am exhausted. Climbing the hill to my sanctuary of an apartment, I can’t find my key. I can’t find any of my keys. My phone’s barely working and I’m due back on campus in less than six hours.
I tweeted about it. Used my phone battery to call a cab. Figured I could stay in the DoubleTree. Who was going to be awake at 3am?!
Sarah Scales was awake.
And by the time I was at the ATM to get cash for the cab, she was en route to pick me up and let me sleep for the night.
I wish I could say this was an unusual story. If you’ve been around any length of time, you know it’s not. I’ve slept in the library because I missed that 245am bus.
Because of grace and mercy and love, I have been taken care of. I went to make a list of all the beautiful souls who have let me use their wheels in the past two years, so that I might take their picture and thank them publicly. However, it will have to come at a different time because I lost count at 46. You all are amazing.
And then, also because of grace and mercy and love, my first real car in 7 years comes home with me.
World, meet Nathalia. Affectionately called “la negra”.
Oh, how he loves us.