Complaining is Boring

It’s cold. It’s dry. It’s grey. It’s February in Indiana. For some reason, every February, we all act surprised at how much it sucks here. But none of this is new to us and I’m going to say something pretty outrageous: complaining about it is really boring. But I suppose it gives us all something to bond over.

I’m going to take a minute though to complain about something that I know I’m not the only one fed up with: potholes. Normally I would never write something like this, but today I experienced a pothole-caused moment of panic that’s compelled me to write.

I currently live with my parents on the northwest side of Indy. A couple of hours ago, I was on my way back to my parents’ house from buying a rug off of someone in Carmel. I was almost home, driving south on Ditch Road in between 96th and 91st Street, when a woman in a large SUV in the oncoming lane suddenly swerved around a pothole. I can’t tell exactly how fast she was going, but she was certainly going too fast in too big of a car to be making that sort of move. I audibly gasped as she swerved into my lane, a split second from slamming head-on into my car. She swerved back into her lane, quite literally narrowly missing my car. My gasp turned into a panic attack as the blood seemingly rushed out of my head and I could no longer see straight. Luckily I was close to home, so I pulled into my parents’ neighborhood gasping for air, tears streaming down my face. The fight or flight bodily reaction was entirely out of my control and it took me a good hour to feel like I was getting back to normal. It’s so dramatic and I’m currently rolling my eyes at myself, but my life literally flashed before my eyes, and my body reacted accordingly.

This whole thing took all of about two seconds. Knowing the pothole situation in the city, that woman should have been driving slower or maybe could have swerved the other direction instead of into oncoming traffic. And what I’m writing about here in essence is not even a problem. Nothing happened – crisis averted. But with one second’s difference, that very easily could have been a head-on collision with a couple totaled vehicles and some serious injuries at the least.

What’s it going to take for the city to take some better action about these potholes? I have no idea how all of this works. There are too many things to know about, I tell ya. If someone would like to provide me with some clarity, by all means. But honestly, whose tire needs to blow for the city to do something?

2 thoughts on “Complaining is Boring

  1. My heart was racing as I read this, loved the short read Teej. There aren’t many potholes here in Small town, Arkansas! I don’t miss the potholes but I do miss you! Love you, I enjoy your writing. Love, Em.

  2. Also I am glad that nothing worse happened. It’s amazing how a couple of seconds can make a world of difference. I’m glad nothing worse came of this scare.

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