...Weep And You Weep Alone

It seems strange that going to book club would be so important to me that I might actually burst into tears at the first sign that I might not be able to go, but that's exactly what happened tonight when I walked out of my front door and stood on the front lawn, pushing the unlock button on my keychain over and over. Of course, Shayne had taken my car, just as he has since we got here. But the last few days, when I was working, he took his own car, which is parked several blocks away and to which I have no key. Today he took mine, and I didn't know until it was time to go.

I guess I didn't realize what a toll living in Logan had taken on me until I found myself crying, trying to hold back the sobs that I knew would only make my face red and solve nothing. Luckily, I had the idea to ask Lacey for a ride. Otherwise I would have just collapsed in a heap, thinking about the few dollars I had been hoarding all month, the book I had read and pondered, the dinner I had looked forward to and the people (other humans!) I desperately wanted to see.

Shayne takes my car as a money-saving strategy, and he wants to become a one-car family, but I find myself becoming more and more opposed to that idea. Sitting at home with nowhere to go for three months is maddening, and I know it will only become more frustrating. Because here I am, back in Utah, in a town that smells like poop, and I don't even have the use of my car. When I was single I could at least go places. Now I can't go anywhere, and I tell myself it's OK because I have nowhere to go anyway, but really it's not OK.

Of course, it's not as if Shayne does this on purpose. He's trying to find ways to save money, and my clinical depression isn't his fault. His family functioned like this, shuttling each other to work and trading the car back and forth amongst themselves, whereas my family has almost always had at least two cars. In my family, nobody was really stuck at home. And maybe they weren't stuck in his family either, because they lived in a town where they were mostly established and they knew other people.

Rationality aside, I want to scream at him and demand my car back. No, you can't take my car away from me! Give it back! My mother gave it to me! I don't want to be trapped here in this little apartment in this shabby little redneck town, waiting for you to come home. I'm not a housewife and I don't want to be. Use your own damn car and give me mine back!

What I actually said: "When I start getting paid, I think you should get your car out of hawk, because I was really upset when I thought I wouldn't be able to go to book club."

And so we see if rational, thoughtfully chosen words can really get the point across.