June moves into the home stretch! And onward we push through those thirty posts nearing the end of what I’ve been writing every year this month. For the fifth year in a row I’m back to a month of daily blogging: each day a new post on a new topic, but on the same blog-per-day topic as last year, creating another set of Those 30 Posts in June. Today, that post just happens to be about something that I want:
To Tell Others… Don’t Panic
I’m a terrible consumer.
For example, I’m a little too neurotic to participate in the apparently-exciting activity of buying a new vehicle. I get stressed. I have strange, cryptic dreams about the fuel efficiency of trucks. I google opinions about colour schemes and security systems and measure my garage four times to make sure everything will fit just right. I get hung up on the fine details of little decisions and let the big concepts slip by in a whisp of casual irrationality. I plot minor adjustments for major things and major adjustments for minor ones. I zig on a purchase when I should probably zag.
I shouldn’t. But I do.
I was reading through the old posts from nearly ten years ago, browsing through the handful of nostalgic posts from when we sold the old red truck and upgraded to a sporty little hatchback that was meant to be a cheap commuter vehicle. The Mazda3 I’ve been driving for that span in between then and now has served us well. It’s driven us here and there. It took me on a hundred little adventures, thousands of commutes, and even drove around a little baby girl for the first seven and a half years of her life.
In a few days… a week, maybe… we’ll be trading it off. It’s just a car, sure. But you always have that little tinge of nostalgia that wraps itself up in a blanket of odd regret and second-guessing on the new path chosen.
In a few days… a week, maybe… I’ll be driving around in a new mid-size truck. Back to the pick-up lifestyle. Back to the bikes in the back, let’s go adventuring, four-by-four sporty type driving that I gave up temporarily for the urban simplicity of a small car. My new little truck, black and bold and bound to be the basis for a thousand new little yet-unknown epics of our lives. Unwritten stories. Untold fables. Photos and flights of fancy through the city and beyond. It’s gonna be awesome, I know it.
Just someone tell the little doubting voice in my head.
No really. I’m excited. But neurotic, too. And a little bit anxious about the magnitude of the change it encompasses, even if it’s just a vehicle. In that light, I’ll tell everyone else that the best course of action is to follow a couple simple words of good advice: Don’t Panic.
But, now it’s your turn. You tell me.