Today I wondered what life would be like if I were a jelly bean. How would I know what I tasted like? How would I go about discovering what my taste was? After all, I would have no mouth, no tongue to sample any of my fruity, sugary goodness. And, as we all know, there are spice flavored jelly beans, popcorn flavored jelly beans, and thanks to the Harry Potter juggernaut, even vomit flavored jelly beans. How do I know I'm not one of those repulsive flavors?
In some way, this might be an interesting metaphor for life and how we as humans try to justify our existence by giving ourselves purposes like goals and dreams or imagine some other omnipotent celestial being imparting purpose on us. On the other hand, it's really only a stupid thought that someone might have while trapped in the sticky throes of boredom.
No matter what flavor I am, it doesn't change the fact that we hit a huge pothole last night with our car, more specifically, the left front wheel. When I say "hit", I mean it. It was the kind of impact where you'll take the first opportunity to pull off of the road and inspect the inevitable damage, which we did. The edge of the wheel was actually bent. Bent, I say! So, in the middle of a large rain storm, we put the donut on once more, not a month after we did exactly the same thing on our return trip to Chicago from holiday vacation.
As it turns out, and thankfully so, the only real damage that occurred was that topical damage to the wheel which was fixed free of charge this morning by our regular garage. Aesthetically, the car sort of lost a visible tooth. The wheel cover no longer fits on the wheel because of the trauma it sustained. The plastic is now gouged and warped beyond hope. But, in the grand scheme of things, a wheel cover is a small thing, especially when we considered that we only have about two more years with this car, speaking realistically. By that time, we'll be approaching the 200K mile mark, and at that point, I would think that the car's retirement might be in order.
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