Shake, Rattle and Panic

I thought it would be a good time to tackle the car mess and try for some type of organization. Get everything in order and sparkly clean before the holidays. I removed piles of stuff from the glove compartment: tossed out the 4 pairs of scratched sunglasses, a years worth of napkins from fast food restaurants, two packs of ketchup, gas receipts that were three years old and dehydrated lemon drops. I sorted all of the DVD’s and placed them in a storage container in alphabetical order. Purchased bright blue seat covers for the front seats and matching floor mats.
I placed all the coins in the coin holder for toll roads. Maps were folded and placed in the side door pockets. I even bought a new compact road atlas and trashed the old taped one the size of a small suitcase. I cleaned mirrors, windows, dashboard and all the cup holders. I purchased these cute eyeglass holders that attach to the visors and clipped the good sunglasses on them. It keeps them out of the way at an easy reach and perhaps no more scratches. You could go over this baby with a white glove and only be a little dirty. I was proud.
Monday morning rolls around – all too soon and off to work I go. Traffic is extremely heavy and the roads are crammed with crazy drivers. I sing along with the Plain White T’s on my new CD. I am thankful all the windows are rolled up. Then, I hear the noise. I turn off the CD and ignore the wild commuters. I slow and listen intently. The noise is vibrating from the hood or the front of the car. My heart pounds with the thumping noise. I don’t know which one is pounding the loudest?
My mind slightly mush wonders if the left front wheel is ready to go flying off crossing two lanes and rolling to a dead stop in the median. Perhaps the engine bolts have come loose and the engine will drop right out in the middle of the road in rush hour traffic. I wish I listened to that salesman and added AAA coverage. Someone beeps at my snails pace. I step slightly on the gas. The fool passes and flips me off.
The noise intensifies. Now I believe it is emanating from the wipers. I’m doing 60 miles an hour what if they come undone? They could become a lethal weapon, especially for that guy in the right hand lane riding the motorcycle with no helmet. What should I do? I’m in the center lane and no one will let me over. Panic sets in. My heart races like a Lippizan stallion.
The car is not that old. Wouldn’t you think it would not fall apart on a Monday in rush hour traffic? I could be stranded for hours. I’ll be late for work. I might get fired. My panic is near hysteria. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating. Someone may need to call 911. Will anyone stop to help me? Do I want anyone to stop and help me? They could be serial killers or car-jackers. My breathing becomes ragged.
The early morning sun glares through my side window almost blinding me adding to my rising anxiety. My trembling hand reaches up and grabs the sun visor and flips it to the side. Quiet fills the space within the car. I push the visor back against the windshield and the noise erupts again. I flip it up and see the metal sunglasses clipped to the new eyeglass holder. I watch the metal glasses vibrate against the clip holder. I sigh with overwhelming relief. I reach over to the shiny clean cup holder and grab for my coffee. Whoops. I missed. My coffee with two creams no sugar slowly drips down the pretty new seat cover.