Just so you know, I’m leaving for Hawaii on Wednesday, so this same stinking blog will be sitting here until I return on February 9th.  In preparation I’m having a fit about the weather, nervously and compulsively checking the Kelowna Airport departures every few hours.  This has been going on for weeks, so by now my nerves are totally gone.

Maybe that explains my latest bout with stupid behaviour.  Last Thursday I did the usual, parked in the big lot at UBC, and then put a nice note on the dash.  The note is always the same, “Sorry, I forgot to bring change.”  Prominent signs are displayed around the lot advising that a ticket needs to be purchased from the dispenser.  Failure to do so can result in a ticket or being towed.

After class I headed straight to where I’d parked the van, but when I arrived, it was gone!  I felt sick as I realized my “sorry, no change” gag had finally failed.  However, I also felt that I deserved to be towed, as here I was, flouting the parking laws of UBC.

I trudged up the hill and went into the security office.  Unfortunately, on my way I passed my creative writing prof and said to her, “I’ve been towed!”  She reacted with disgust at the strict punishment meted out for parking infractions.

As soon as I told the people in security that my van must’ve been towed, both nice guards shook their heads and said they hadn’t towed anyone that day.  One of them phoned down to a colleague and read my license number to him.  I waited nervously, though with some joy as I thought of never seeing the van again, and making the claim for theft.

Sure enough, the guard phoned back that indeed, my van was there!  I said, “Oh my God, I feel so stupid!” and was given a ride to the lot in a golf cart.  I then had to e mail my prof and tell her how incredibly stupid I am.  What a day!

It’s funny because I’m always so sure that I’m right.  I was sure I knew where I’d parked, but it turned out I was at the opposite end of the row.  And because I felt so sure that I was guilty of an offense, I didn’t even bother to search the lot.

At the gym we hand over our car keys in exchange for a locker key.  Last fall the receptionist handed me my key, and I said with utter conviction, “that’s not my key.”  She replied calmly, “it’s the one you gave me.”

I shrugged and took it, knowing she was nuts.  I went out, and sure enough, the key started my van.  Hmmmmmm.

So it appears that a nice holiday somewhere warm is probably going to be a very good thing.  Please think of me now and again as you are freezing.  Aloha!