My Week Off

I took a week of vacation in order to help out my brother and sister-in-law. They needed someone to watch their two children while my sister-in-law finishes up the school year and my brother subjects himself to a masochistically brutal shoot schedule for the Smithsonian Institute. My family has been taking turns in spending a week in D.C. and watching the kids. Three weeks ago, my Mom and Grandmother jaunted down. Two weeks ago, my sister fortified herself, took her son in tow, and trekked south. Last week was my turn. As an initiation for my week off, I decided to go out with an amazing Friday night with coworkers and friends (Wendy, Bret, Jay, Bruce, Mota, Larisa, Sommer, and Mallory, you guys are awesome). A night which ended in Midtown East, on a rooftop deck, drinking Coronas, as the sun rose (pictured). As with all high points, days also have low points. That Saturday was a f*cking cliff.As I ran to the 51st St. Subway station, every bit of strength, that was not being used keeping me on my feet, was utilized to keep down the multitude of alcoholic and/or hydrating beverages now sloshing around in my stomach like a damn industrial washing machine. Despite my best semi-athletic efforts, I missed the train I needed to take. So I was stuck on the downtown 6 platform for an additional half hour.By the time I got back into my town, it was nearing 8:00 AM. I, still somewhat inebriated, decided to swing by my favorite diner to get some pancakes before I crash at my apartment. As I enjoyed that short stack, I realized that the last time I ate was Friday's lunch. By my standards, I was very surprised that I had not collapsed yet. When I did collapse, it was at my apartment. Even though I had just eaten, I had not enough energy to make it to my bed. I just lied on my couch, booted up my PS3, started Episode 1 of Spaced, and barely made out the time on my cable box. It was 9:02 AM. I knew I told my brother that I was going to leave for D.C. early Saturday but that was not a possibility anymore.I woke up at 11:04 AM to my phone ringing. I was surprised it still had a charge left. When I looked at the phone, it said my cousin from Boston was calling. I answered the phone and he proceeded to tell me that he was right outside with his aunt and uncle (also my cousins). So I put on my sunglasses, combed my hair, and went out to meet them. As I greeted them, they laughed a little. My feeble attempts were not enough to mask the fact I had just woken up in my clothes from last night. They asked if I wanted to hang out but I briefed them on the situation down in D.C. After we went our separate ways, I took a shower, brushed my teeth, packed my bags, and jumped in my car.While I was completely sober when I made the decision to drive, I was not fully rested. I really did not think this would be a problem because I have, in the past, become tired while driving. It was about three hours into the five hour drive that I realized there is a significant difference between driving causing tiredness and driving while exhausted. I found myself slapping my face, singing loudly, and even sticking my head out the window to stay alert. I do not suggest that last one...I swallowed a bug. In fact, the only times I was the most alert was when I was talking to my brother, sister, and one of my good friends when they called me. Unfortunately for me, nobody wants to talk to somebody just to keep him/her conscious.I was about four and a half hours into the drive. I was in Maryland and was close to my destination. I suddenly felt invigorated and decided I did not need to continue my alertness exercises. All I had to do was drive one more half hour. To quote those three gents from Top Gear, "How hard could it be?" What I realize only now while writing this is that my sleep deprivation got the best of me and my mind was playing tricks. While driving in the right lane, I noticed a full size flatbed tow truck winching a moped up onto its bed. I stared at this odd and perplexing sight for far too long.Rolling over a field of lush, uncut, green grass at 65 mi/hr is something I was not prepared to do. Apparently my reaction time could be measured by a sundial and I had to act fast to avoid the sharply falling off hill fast approaching. I quickly brought my car back onto asphalt but I forgot something about my Subaru. All-wheel drive vehicles, like my Subaru Impreza, have so much traction that when you point the car in a direction, it will go in that direction. That may sound normal but when I learned how to drive, I was taught about over and under-steering. With all-wheel drive, if you over-steered, were going to hit a wall. Because I forgot about that, I hit the wall of the bridge and skidded sideways to a stop.By the time I hit the wall I was probably going about 25 mi/hr. This was fast enough to deploy the airbags and mess up the front of my car. I was perfectly fine though. I never utilized the airbags or the locking function of the seat belt. It was my honest opinion that this was a minor collision. Good Samaritans (they were not from Samaria; they were form Maryland and Virginia) stopped to help me out. One guy donated two flares; another set up those flares. One woman helped me collect my clothes that were strewn about my car (yes, I had to do laundry and brought it with me). Another woman remarked on how well I controlled my vehicle. I thanked her but thought, "If I controlled my vehicle well, then I would not have hit the wall." The funniest part of the collision was that I was asking all of the bystanders if they were unharmed. The image of a young guy getting out of a recently crashed car and asking if everybody else was fine is simply too funny.I will not bore you with the aftermath details but I have to thank Alex from Vinny's Towing in Frederick, MD. He was a great guy and had a decent attitude for being called out on a Memorial Day Saturday afternoon. Fast-forward to me, sitting with all my clothes, getting eaten alive by an armada of mini flying vampires, in the dusty tow lot, waiting for my brother. He picks me up and we eventually get back to his house.Taking care of a two year old and a six month old seemed like a daunting task. I remember when my sister entrusted me with her five month old son, by myself, I was ridden with anxiety...and I do not get anxiety. Of course, I did not let on to the fact that I was scared shit-less. But everything worked out in the end (even though my sister lied to me about her son being shit-less; he was not). So here I was, confronted with not one life, but two, so innocent and undeserving of my probable screw-ups. My sister would call me every day to make sure that everyone was alive...and that I was OK. To be honest, the whole week was a pretty good experience. Monday was easy because my sister-in-law had off for Memorial Day. Tuesday was pretty good because they were just little cherubs. Wednesday brought with it a very willful Zachary and a schedule-upsetting Kaylee. It was rough, but we all got through. Thursday...I don't really remember Thursday. Friday was good as well. So in the end, these are very good children mainly because they have very good parents. I wish I could share with you the most endearing moments that I had with them this past week. But my camera on my phone is not that fast and it is hard to use when being pulled betwixt the two youngsters.My auto insurance company assigned me a local Claim Representative, Morgan, and she was a delight. She made sure that I was OK and briefed me on the whole claims procedure. But she did have to break the bad news to me. The repair estimate on my car exceeded 88% of the vehicle's pre-loss value; totaled. This was a crushing blow considering the damage, as pictured above. The damage was not that bad but it was expensive. Thankfully Morgan gave me the option to salvage the vehicle. This car is not just a car. It was my Great-Aunt's car that I bought from her estate after she died. She loved that car and I love it too. For those of you who really know me, I do not throw that word around, love. I firmly believe in its definition and power. It really does apply in this situation. Also, the car itself, design, performance, practicality, and demeanor really fit with my own look, ability, usefulness, and personality. I had to save this car; it was not dead yet. So I sent the car off for repair, Morgan set me up with a rental, and I arrived by at my apartment, safe and sound.This is usually the bit where I sum up things; not this time. I will merely state the three things I have learned this week off.

1. Don't Drive on less than 5 hours of sleep.
2. I am more capable than I expected.
3. Parallel Parking a Chevy Impala is an exercise in futility.

Bonus Learning: Seriously fun times with Wendy, Bret, Jay, Bruce, Mota, Larisa, Sommer, and Mallory. Thanks guys!