Clean Car Day

Tomorrow, my friends and I are going to a baseball game, and because I'm "on the wagon", I offered to drive. Of course, that meant I would have to clean out my car.

As many of my close friends, and anyone who has ever parked next to me, know

(not my car; dramatic re-creation. for the most part)

I am a bit of a car slob. Now, I'm not like those people that have six years of newspapers and phone books stuffed into their 86 Honda; I just spend a lot of time in my car, and I am terrible about throwing things

like newspapers, water bottles, bags, and magazines out.

Now, in the past, cleaning out my car was one of those tasks I absolutely despised and totally procrastinated, thereby making the situation even worse. I can't tell you the number of times I've had to dash out to the parking lot to shove stuff under the seats so I could drive my co-workers to lunch.

So, tonight as I started reaching under seats and into the glove box, I was surprised. Where was all the crap? Had car elves been hard at work while I slept, sweeping up fossilized french fries and old Quik-Trip cups? Was I cleaning out the right Pontiac? After all, there are a LOT of silver Pontiac Vibes on the road. Where were the McDonald's bags, the thousands of napkins, the millions of empty cigarette boxes? WHOSE CAR WAS THIS??? AND WHY WAS I CLEANING IT???

Then I realized: it was my car. Yeah, there were a few old NY Times, several empty water bottles and a couple of popsicle sticks. It occured to me then just how much my life has changed in the past five weeks. No more McDonalds on my way into work in the morning; therefore, no McDonald's bags. No more 44 ounce Diet Cokes; therefore, no 44 ounce Quik-Trip cups. No more lighting up a smoke every time I got into the car; therefore, no more Marlboro boxes or ashes to vacuum up.

I got the car cleaned out in about five minutes, and then went for a walk. I guess Clean Car Day isn't so much a big deal anymore. Hee.

(again, not my ride. yet.)