Not In My Van

Not In My Van

a0039016729_10I hadn’t been driving long when I felt something on my shoulder. I didn’t think much of it. It was just a tickle, so I reached up to scratch it…and felt something grab my hand.

No, not like another hand, just something sticky.

Ew.

I flicked it, although I still had not idea what “it” was. I also didn’t know where “it” went. I just knew I was still driving, had oncoming traffic closeby, and was a bit creeped out.

Ew.

I don’t tend to panic about bugs. After all, I’m bigger than they are. But I didn’t know what I was dealing with. All I knew was I was trapped in a van with it.

I pulled into a gas station, jumped out, and looked. I had a quick thought of, “What if I don’t find ‘it’?”

But I did. “It” was a walking stick. And it was pretty. It didn’t look hurt, although I can’t imagine I hadn’t traumatized it! I gently scooted it out of the van.

But…ew.

It didn’t belong in my van. I felt better once it was out. But then I realized if I didn’t know “it” was there, what other “its” am I not aware of? And they don’t bother me if I don’t know they’re there.

Just because I feel comfortable in my surroundings doesn’t mean there aren’t things that make me uncomfortable in my surroundings.

And I realized I’m okay with that.

I don’t need to know all the details, because some of those details bug me. And I can only deal with a bug or two at a time. Life is filled with “ews,” and quite honestly, I can only deal with an “ew” or two at a time.

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