I Bought Beef Jerky

This is going to take a minute. Bear with me. At some point I'll make you laugh.

I've been driving a GMC Sierra truck for the last week. And this doesn't feel like "me." And today, in a mindless gas station stop to refuel the ugly beast I reached out to the impulse shelf at the gas station and bought beef jerky.

That was my first clue that something was wrong. I'm sure it's been 10 years, if not forever, since I bought salted dehydrated meat, never mind from a gas station. But that was, in the moment, what I had a hankering for. Ewww.

So what on earth has happened to me, and why am I driving a GMC Sierra?

An unfortunate set of circumstances has disabled my much-loved Titan. And until the sexy, powerful truck can be repaired, I was gifted a "loaner" vehicle to drive. So this 2012 Sierra was the best they could offer. Sure, it sounds fine until you realize the seat does not adjust in height, and that it has a column shifter that I seem to bump every time I reach for the radio dial. (Yes, I did say DIAL) So there I am sitting low... oh, did I mention it's a bench seat? (Good lord, I didn't realize that was still an option.)  Every time I reach for a knob or button or something it's in the wrong place. And it corners like a farm tractor.

Even so, after a few days, I have started to get used to it. And that's when I noticed the changes happening to me. I'm driving about 80km/hr in a 90. I'm taking the long way home, just to check on the neighbour's crops and cattle. I'm starting to rest my right arm on the back of the bench seat, and steer with my left hand. Good God, what's happening to me? And that's when I bought the beef jerky. Ugh. I NEED my Titan back before I start drinking 6 packs of OV off the tail gate.

This isn't me. I'm not in my element right now. I'm beginning to think that I should start a charity, or support group for people who are oppressed, depressed or dysfunctional from the exposure to unfortunate vehicle choices. It's like trying to walk in high heels when all you know is cowboy boots. Or trying to watch football when all you understand is the Arts.

People who drive "whatever" or something that is just good enough, are missing out on the joy of driving. To have something that expresses your personality, or even just suits your lifestyle, is to know happiness. As I used to say, there are two kinds of drivers in this world... convertible people and "unhappy roof people."  I now have to broaden my definitions, but you either ARE, or you AREN'T.... and I certainly "aren't" a GMC Sierra-type girl.

Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease get me my Nissan Titan back soon. I'll never survive on beef jerky and OV.