We planned on getting a rental car to head up to Whidbey Island today. There has been a little bit of discrepancy about it because of the requirements for getting a rental car, which we’ve ran into once before in Los Angeles.
Though we’ve lived together for 4 years, we are not married. That means that rental car agencies will not let us pool our resources between the two of us. I’ve never had a driver’s license (I’ve always had too much anxiety to be able to drive) so I can’t get a rental car on my own, but even if my man did the driving, the rental car companies wont let me pay or use my credit card for the deposit.
I had nightmares all night about the car not working out (particularly because of the lack of a back-up plan). We made plans with my dad, with my grandma, and with my mom over the course of the next two days -all of which are very heavily dependent on us being able to reach Whidbey Island.
First thing this morning my nightmares were realized.
We didn’t get the car.
I’ve made a pact with myself about not manipulating people (something I’ll come back to in a post in a couple days), but boy was I sad about that when I heard we weren’t getting a car. I hate to say this, but as a woman I have a useful tool for situations like this one: crying. Had I been given about 20 minutes in that rental agency (I stayed home this morning) I honestly believe I could have gotten them to change their minds.
But it’s better this way, right? Christmas isn’t about lying and cheating, so it is probably best that I left that one alone.
In any case, four phone calls later and my dad has agreed to drive the two hours each way to come pick us up.
Have I mentioned that my dad is a rockstar? He just single-handedly saved Christmas!
That isn’t the miracle though.
The Christmas Miracle is the fact that I didn’t find the news that the rental car fell through completely devastating (as I normally find anything that puts a huge dent in my plans).
I didn’t have a panic attack!
I didn’t even cry!
I didn’t have to lock myself in the bedroom for 30 minutes to let my brain rework what happened so that I could move on.
Today the Christmas Miracle is the beautiful (albeit probably singular) instance of flexibility that I was able to exhibit. It is a rare and mysterious thing to me normally, so I can’t be grateful enough.