I have, thus far, managed to make most of the major milestone days that I've passed into incredibly basic new experiences. I feel like I should do something epic on day 65 - there will be fewer than 300 days to go at that point. In the meantime, I managed to schedule my little road trip such that I would be driving the entire nine hours back to Michigan, from DC, on day 60.
I had very few options in front of me. I could do one of my back-up projects when I got home, but I'm desperately trying to save those for finals, rainy days (after I dance in the rain, go puddle jumping, put down my coat for someone to walk over and lend an umbrella to a stranger, of course). There was one other thing I could do, but it was so vile... so disgusting... so inappropriate... that I scarcely felt I'd be able to write about it. I'm referring, of course, to.... stopping in Ohio for something.
Say it ain't so.
On the bright side, thanks to the horrendous ice storm I drove through on the way down south (in, where else, Ohio)... I'd essentially run out of windshield wiper fluid. You know, that bright blue stuff you're not supposed to drink when you're bored? Yeah, that stuff. Having never changed the wiper fluid in my car myself (or any other fluid besides gas for that matter), I realized with delight that it would easily count for the day... enabling me to drive home, relax and maintain my inappropriate, University-of-Michigan-brainwashing-related hatred of the Buckeye State.
Your mascot is a nut. I could literally eat you for breakfast.
Like just about everything I've done for the past two months, trying to change any kind of vital liquid in my car was both new and scary. I didn't want to mess up the engine or pour it in the wrong container or anything. Luckily, Ben-Jammin' was there to help. Before I got on the road, he showed me which one of the insanely similar looking plastic containers in my engine would house the washer fluid. Apparently, its a two step process.
1. Find container.
2. Pour liquid into container.
There's some other mumbo-jumbo about opening the container and closing it up when you're finished, but all that nonsense is for people with too much time in their hands. If I had my way, I wouldn't even stop the car. Now that would be a show. But, seeing as I'm not several people, at least one of whom is a circus performer, I settled for pulling over at a rest stop in Pennsylvania, buying a container of washer fluid ($3.49 - not bad), and following Ben's idiot-proof instructions.
I think we both know the best punchline would be something about how horribly I messed up at the incredibly simple, two-step process... but that isn't what happened. Instead, what I realized is that the only reason I was nervous about it was having never done it before. Think about the polar plunge - I had a darn good reason to be nervous about that. That water is colder than a New England housewife. But the washer fluid? It really was simple. It was straightforward, easy, and very difficult to mess up.
And now my car has washer fluid. Hooray!
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