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.

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?

You want Spring? Wear Your Shorts.

It’s the last week of March and if you live in Ontario, Canada that means you start the Spring push. It’s the time of year we’re so frustrated with snow and cold that we cosmically try to change the weather by wearing inappropriate clothing. This morning I saw a couple of people walking their dogs in long sleeved shirts, hats, scarves and shorts. It was still below zero, but I understood their game plan. If Winter is being stubborn, as Canadians we must take matters into our own hands and push back. So get mad people! Get out your flip flops and suck it up.

There’s a reason Winter is portrayed in movies and fairy tales as a grumpy old man.  Just like any grumpy old man, at first you find him amusing, you play along doing your best to ignore his cackling. Then he starts to wear on you and you begin to mirror his grumpiness. Finally you can’t take it anymore and you snap (hence, shorts with hats) and you seek some more enjoyable company.

The good news is Spring is coming and if Winter is a grumpy old man, Spring is an overly enthusiastic aerobics instructor with a pony tail. It’s bouncy, light, and airy and she’s heading our way. You know how I know? At my house there are always tell tale signs.

  1. There’s only a pin head size dot of polish on my big toe leftover from my August pedicure.
  2. The snow is melting in the back yard and I can see all the land bombs (dog poop) I’ve neglected to pick up in three months
  3. Baseball hats are littering the house. On every level. On every surface.
  4. The big stinky hockey bag that is always in the dining room has now been replaced by a big stinky baseball bag.
  5. The Boy has stopped wearing pajama pants and is walking around the house shirtless. Related: I see a reality show in his future.
  6. I’m starting to hoard exercise videos again.
  7. The dirt on the windows is mocking me.
  8. The winter boots have gone from being an unorganized pile in front of the door, to a heap in the bottom of the closet along with hats, mitts and scarves waiting to be shoved into one big “Winter” bag.
  9. MUD – on the floor, on the dog, on the car…
  10. I have an intense need to paint everything and have already begun my weekly trips to Home Depot.

Yup, it’s coming. And it’s not just me. These kinds of posts are showing up on Pinterest.

So have no fear, Spring will be here soon in all her yoga pants and scrunchie glory and the only one who can take her down is the Biotch, the mean girl we call Summer who brings the heat and takes her out, so jealous of Spring she frizzes her hair and makes her cry all the way home.