Anxiety and Lime Green Cars

Green carI have a theory.

It is my belief that people who buy brightly coloured cars can’t possibly suffer from anxiety. For 3 weeks we’ve been test driving cars. Finally I’m getting rid of the Impala (complete with wood grain interior). We’ve had it for 10 years and the only reason I agreed to it back then was it had a sunroof, spoiler and tinted windows. Back then the only people who drove Impala’s were old people and cops, which I can only guess was because they could fit a fraternity of drunken university boys in the back seat comfortably. But I liked the car. It was way better than driving the dreaded van. Plus, the upside to driving a cop car is never being pulled over, which is more than I can say about the Caravan. Who gets pulled over in a Caravan? This girl.

What can I say? I’m a bad ass.

A bad ass who can’t stick to a topic…

Anyway, buying a new car stresses me out, well really buying a shirt stresses me out… but in this situation…Which car? Is it safe? Is it sexy? Will it fall apart in 5 years?  Will it make me look 20lbs lighter? So I did what any decision challenged, anxiety ridden person would do in today’s social media world. I asked Facebook for opinions. Here’s what I learned.

Ford people hate Chevy.

Chevy people hate Ford.

Both of them hate Foreign.

I got no help what so ever because it’s a personal decision and sadly I suck at those.

We finally decided on the car. I’m not posting what kind because first, I don’t want to offend anyone… but really I’m afraid of receiving comments. Something else I’ve learned is that people love to tell you their car horror stories, especially if you just purchased the same car. Just know this, we went with the car that gave us the most bang for our buck, good warranty but sexy enough to satisfy, unfortunately though we did sacrifice our patriotism. Please forgive me Canada, but the way I see it the employee who sold it to me was Canadian, so you know food on his table and the tables of all the service workers at the dealership. I can rationalize anything. Try me.

I shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to get emails.

Now here is where the decision got really hard and the whole reason for this rambling post.

What colour?

How could colour be such a hard decision? I have to admit, I didn’t see it coming. We jumped back and forth for a week. Now get this, it wasn’t even a bright colour we were deciding on. It was black or white.


Because I knew neon green, bright red or even a simple blue would just stress me out. This is where the theory comes in. I looked at all the brightly coloured cars on the lot and I thought, “Not a chance in hell could I ever be comfortable in that.”

I started paying attention to the brightly coloured cars driving around. I would look at the driver and think, now that’s a person who’s comfortable with themselves and knows what they want. I want to be like that.

I’m not.

Black is super sexy and happened to be the floor model sitting there all sleek and shiny with its tinted windows, calling my name and I did like the look of it better. But as my sister so lovely (not so much) reminded me, I’m not exactly great at keeping things clean. Black shows everything. I know because all I could base my decision on was what was around me and what was around me was a dirty, dented, scratched BLACK Dodge Caravan.

Plus my daughter pointed out that cosmically we didn’t want two black vehicles. Buying another black one could screw with our universe. “Go with white,” she said, “Ying and Yang and all of that.”

True. True. Plus the husband will be driving the black van and me the white car, making me good and him evil.

We went white. It’s a balance thing.

If I was really serious about facing my fears maybe I should’ve got the lime green car. If I drove around in a bright car would I develop some kind of sureness about myself? …Or end up in an ugly lime green car questioning my ability to make a rational choice?

Someone with more credibility than me should do a study on the anxiety levels of people in bright colours. I need to know if I’m on to something. Then I can do one of those magazine survey things. “What Your Car Colour Says About You.”

What colour of car do you drive?

Step Back, I’m Making A Decision.

I’m at a crossroads. I have a few career options and pretty soon I have to make a definite choice. This makes me nervous. I’m notoriously bad at making decisions, even simple ones. This morning it took me almost an hour just to book a straight forward flight, but when I got to the seat options I stalled. Should I go for safety or convenience, aisle or window, it really is ridiculous.

Crossroads always remind me of The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy meets the Scarecrow at a fork in the road and together they choose a path. They don’t know if it’s the right one, but they choose it together and head out unaware of what the future holds. I have no Scarecrow. Plus, I have this personality glitch which makes me incapable of making a decision on my own. After all, who would I blame if things go wrong? I just want my life to go smoothly and have my world filled with rainbows, yellow bricks roads and strange but loveable friends. I’ve fought enough evil monkeys and would rather not run into any along my way. Is that too much to ask?

I’ve been off work since August, resigning from my secure job of sixteen years to “find myself.” Holy cliché, I know but it’s true. I did it as a leap of faith, the first big decision I’ve ever made on my own. Of course the hubby had an opinion and I wanted it badly but he refused to tell me until I made the choice myself. He didn’t want to sway my decision. He’s a good man. A good, yet evil man. As it turns out, a break was exactly what I needed. I’m not going to say the entire time has been Eat, Pray, Love worthy, but it has definitely taught me a lot about myself and for that I’m grateful.

So again it all comes down to what I want. I guess I want what everyone wants. I want a guarantee. I want to be certain if I put the time in I’ll achieve my goals. I want to see how the movie ends before the premiere. Should I continue to sacrifice, to take chances or just enjoy what is because I have a great deal of wonderful things in my life?

Unfortunately, just like Dorothy and the Scarecrow I don’t have a crystal ball telling what will happened if I make the wrong choice. Even if they had went the other way chances are the witch would’ve still found them and sent out her funky monkeys. It’s also good to remember if they had indeed gone the other way they might not have met the Tin Man or the Lion and made great friendships during their journey to reach the Wizard.

Whatever road I take I’m sure I’ll be okay, but the “what-ifs” are enough to drive a girl bonkers. “What-ifs” are the driving force behind fear. I don’t fear my abilities. On a good day my brain (unlike the Scarecrow’s) is in tacked and ready to serve. My heart is fully functioning and ready to commit to both paths, in fact it’s pulling me in both directions. Do both it says. Maybe I could find a way to combine the two…

What if I fail?  What if I don’t?

Maybe instead of trying to identifying with Dorothy I should be learning something from the Lion. Turns out he just needed to believe in himself and face his fears. Courage is acting in spite of fear. Maybe it’s all I need to succeed. Well, that and the little red shoes.