At my bi-weekly twitter breakfast this morning, I was discussing my anticipation for my trip to the Smokies next week, and the likelihood that I would get a speeding ticket.  It has been a few years (Trip back from Wisconsin while visiting Kevin I got nailed in Ohio by Airplane radar) since I have gotten a ticket *knock on proverbial wood*.  I’d say it’s about time.  While my around town driving has been classified by my future co-pilot Megan as “grannyish”, I have been known to do at least 80…sometimes, say, 85, on the open highway.  It is bound to happen soon.

For the same reason that I antipate (and haven’t been disappointed yet!) to have my car break down sometimes as many as 5 times a year, I purchase AAA plus just so that I can be sure to be towed from the middle of nowhere with a dead battery, clogged cat, or other random mishap that only seems to happen ‘Brenda style’ (wow, was that not the longest run-on sentence ever??).  I was described as “pessimistic” this morning on my thought process.  Pessimistic?  Who?  Me?  I have been described often an optimistic, but when it comes down to it, what’s the truth about me?

I’m a realist.  Now, don’t lump me in with the overthinking, always half empty, constantly snub nosed realists that come to mind, no mine is quite different.  You see, I AM being real.

My husband died when I was 24.  Twenty friggin’ four.  Who does that happen to???  ME.  My cars, even when purchased brand spankin’ new, have not failed to be in the shop more than I go to the hairdresser.  Hell, more than I SHOWER.  I have sprained my left ankle no less than 6 times.  In fact, I keep a brace in my duffel bag at all times just for the common occurance that I do re-sprain my ankle.  It is indeed why I chose to get my tattoo on my right ankle, not my left, should I ever (most likely) need surgery for that little chunk of bone that now floats around in there.  I have never been in an official “accident” until this winter, when my car slid down a hill because I was avoiding a truck from hitting me from behind, which then sailed me into the already progressing accident in front of me.  I married a CANADIAN (need I say more?)  I have a running tally of how many speeding tickets I have gotten (and how many I have gotten out of, or pleaded to drop the points (of which I was successful)), and of just the random things that could only happen to, well, moi.

I am real.  That’s the truth.  No bullshit, no “woe is me” wah wah wah crap, no excuses, just being prepared for reality.  You cannot be prepared for widowhood, trust me, that is just unpreparable.  But the other stuff?  Hell yes I am going to try to prepare for that.  It just makes life so much more smooth when I can prepare for the worst, and be delightfully, and completely unexpectedly surprised when it doesn’t happen…to me.