So I was parked on a hill a couple days ago. I figured it would make the most sense to use my parking brake so that I didn’t have to run after my truck as it rolled away. When I reached down to pull the brake, I must have mistakenly pulled the hood latch because I’ve been driving around for two days with my hood open.

I realized it yesterday morning on my way to work. I was driving down the highway, and something kept distracting me in my peripheral vision. When I looked, I saw the hood bobbing up and down as I sped over the asphalt. I freaked out a little bit as I imagined an air current sweeping under the hood and whipping it back, blocking my view, ripping off the truck and flying into the unsuspecting traffic behind me causing the most horrific car pile up in Cleveland’s history.

I didn’t want to be that girl.

But I also didn’t want to be the girl who pulled over on the side of 71 to slam the hood when an asshole drinking his morning latte, talking on his cell, and driving 90mph because he’s late for his 8am meeting, runs her down like the coffee shop Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black. Nope. Don’t want to be that girl either.

So I drove to work with my hood open and I did it extreeeeemely sloooowwwww.

And then I forgot to close it when I parked and went into work instead. And then I forgot to close it again when I got out of work. And then again when I got home.

I finally closed it this morning.

Guh.

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