Let me give you some back story:
When I was in high school, S and I spent a few days in Nantucket as a graduation gift. During the time that we on the island, a man was shooting cars with a BB gun during rush hour traffic on the highway we took to get to the ferry on the Cape. This continued for several afternoons. I spent some of my time in Nantucket worrying that the day we drove home we would be shot at by a crazy person.* (Yes, I worry about inane things on a regular basis.)
But yesterday as I was driving out to Western MA my fears came to fruition. So there I was driving through a construction zone with my radio turned up just a bit too loud when BAM! There was a super loud sound that scared the crap out of me and got my blood pumping. I immediately turned off the radio and tried to assess the situation at 60 mph. Is there a hole in my windshield? Did my car's axle snap in half? Did someone shoot at my car?
The windshield looked fine and I was still driving in a straight line so I continued to drive. I cautiously turned the radio back on certain that disaster was imminent. But all was fine. As I drove I came to the conclusion that a rock probably hit my car. I was in a construction zone...I was driving behind a pick up truck. It must have been a rock. I pictured a giant dent in my hood, or a busted headlight. And then I saw it. Hiding behind my review mirror was this:
I've heard rocks hit the windshield many times before but this was like nothing I've ever heard. It's weird how the crack spread in a perfect circle.
So now I have plans for Wednesday. And a lunch date with T!
* They caught the guy before we headed home so we were safe from the crazy person.