Because I am running out of time for day 2, and because I don't have the energy to really dig into the stuff that's in my head today after spending the evening with my *delightfully* nutty parents, here is something I wrote a while back:
Dealing with the aftermath, after enough instances, just becomes routine. Sometimes it varies in severity, but the basics are the same. Harden the emotions (or go numb… it’s hard to tell which it is in the moment but they’re both effective), assess the damage, come up with a plan, and implement it. You’ll deal with the fact that it happened at all later, because right now, today, the plan needs to happen for the world to keep turning. Actual normalcy isn’t something you’re familiar with, so keeping the world turning will have to do. For some “the plan” is to dab on some makeup and come up with a convincing story. “My dog head-butted me.” or “I was putting away the camping gear and the shelf broke and everything just came crashing down. It was SUCH a mess, we had to repair the shelves and even remove a dent from the car from that big folding loveseat – you know, the red one? Anyway, the tent poles just got me right here. Crazy, right?!”
On this particular day, “the plan” was to slowly, carefully roll my car out of the garage onto the driveway. Try not to turn the wheel, though, because then it’ll mark up the driveway and it needs to look like the car was here overnight, when it happened. When the triple A tow truck driver arrives, stand strategically to obstruct his view of the tire marks on the driveway leading from the garage and insist on your incredulity that someone would do this. No, you don’t have any enemies and can’t imagine why someone would slash ALL the tires on your car while it’s sitting in the driveway. I’m a heavy sleeper and didn’t hear a thing, of course. What a silly thing to have to tow my car only a quarter mile to the nearest Les Schwab. We’ll take the other car and meet you there, thanks a bunch.
All this must occur early in the morning because the lovely, supportive people in your life have orchestrated an event for you and it would be so rude to be late. Finish up at Les Schwab, drive back home on your four brand new tires that he bought as… what... an olive branch? (I guess that must have been his “plan.” Fix the material damage. End of plan.) Put on the dress and earrings you picked out, put on makeup, and accept that you just don’t have time to curl your hair like you’d planned. Ride in silence while your fiancé drives your car with four brand new tires to your engagement party. Reassure him that you don’t think anyone will notice that you have all new tires. Smile and hug everyone, and try not to think about what a hypocrite you are for accepting their kindness.