Bumps in the Road
By Susan Schilke; August 18, 2021
When I was 18, I hit a few bumps in the road. Literally. Every day on my way to work. My apartment wasn’t in the best part of town, and to get to work, I drove over an old railroad track in serious disrepair. There were huge potholes on either side of the tracks. Crossing it required slowly weathering the bumps. Twice a day, every day.
This was a real problem for me. There was no alternate route, and I didn’t want to have to stop and inch through every day. Most mornings I was in a rush because work started early, and I was 18. I didn’t want to be late because I needed my job. Most afternoons I was in a rush because work was over, and I was 18. And not slowing down was worse – my beloved old car would rattle and protest, and I was worried it would fall apart. I needed my car. It was a problem.
The road was driving me crazy. But really, the bumps had started a few years earlier.