Why God Gave Us Swear Words and Other Titles for Yesterday

If we were to write a children's book about my yesterday, we would call it something like Claire and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Except that we would probably run into some copyright infringement problems, so here are some other potential titles:
  • The Long Journey Home
  • All Tired Out
  • Life Changes Part 6
  • Yesterday's Cover Picture
  • Why God Gave Us Swear Words 

I was dreading yesterday before it happened because yesterday was the day I left Provo. Forever. Well, forever meaning the foreseeable future. Because grad school in Indiana.
Every time I've left Provo since August 2011, I knew I was coming back. I've always had a a handful boxes waiting for me in someone's house during my short absences and week by week, Provo became my home. *insert nostalgic music*

Admittedly, that took a while. 
And if not for this past year, I don't know if I would have felt this sense of home as strongly. But as I drove home yesterday and replayed an eight-hour long montage of the past six years, I wept about all of the wonderful things that have happened. And while excited for upcoming adventures, I couldn't help but think nothing would be as wonderful as the friends, community, and life I've had in Provo. #blessed

Physical Representation of Saying Goodbye
to my Old Life

Anyways, that was all background so you could understand that I was already in an emotional, weepy state of mind with all these changes.
I finished the drive to Colorado around 4:30pm, dropped my stuff off, and then went to go pick up my parent's dog Buddy from our friends who had been taking care of him. 

But then...

*Cue scary music*

On the way back from picking him up, Buddy saw a rabbit from the car window and kind of freaked out right when I went through a skinnier part of a road due to decorative curbs (I know, who makes decorative curbs?!). In my delayed reaction time, my right front tire hit one of these treacherous curbs and it decided to give up the ghost. And by that, I mean the tire went flat.
Warning: Raging pot holes ahead.
I said some choice words and may or may not have yelled at Buddy and then started to cry a bit (because I hadn't done enough of that) and since my parents are in Europe, I called my brother for FaceTime instruction on how to change a tire. It took me a painful hour of near breakdown mode to do it, but I learned a valuable life skill and went on my merry little way.

Except then .3 miles from my house, I hit a pot hole with the spare tire. And the merriness stopped. 
Which made the spare tire give up the ghost as well.
*scary music grows more intense and desperate*

This led to another slew of choice words followed by a real breakdown. 
Picture full-on sobbing mixed with some intense screaming at invisible demons on the side of the road and collapsing on the grass in messy puddle of emotion and don't forget that my arms are covered in car grease from changing the tire and exploring the underside of my car.

I woke my parents up in Europe after trying to unsuccessfully pull myself together and they told me to call a tow truck (which I guess was pretty obvious with two busted tires). So I waited by my car for two hours only to walk home because the tow truck couldn't get there until 10pm and let's not forget I'd spent the day driving and mourning the passing of good times and desperately needed a bed.

On that walk home after I calmed down a little bit. 
And developed a more mature and spiritual title for this awful day.
I call it "The Parable of the Spare Tire."

It goes like this: God gives us four tires. And when we bust one of our tires, thank goodness there is a spare in a secret compartment in the trunk with an extra tire that may take a while to put on but saves you in the end. And then sometimes shortly thereafter a stupid pothole appears and kills your spare tire too and so obviously you break down because you've put up with enough already so thank goodness roadside assistance exists and even though it may take a few hours and you are an utter mess of tears and car oil you're glad that God didn't desert you. 

And thus ended Claire's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. 


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