My car won’t start. The key won’t turn in the lock. Several of my new fat friends have tried it, and it really won’t move at all. It is stiffer than I was this morning after my flex and stretch class yesterday. Triple A have called a car locksmith “It will take him an hour and a half to get to you and he may not be able to get it started. It will cost $95 whether or not he can fix it. If he can’t help, call us back and we’ll send a tow truck”
Great. It is of course too hot to sit in or anywhere near the car. Under what used to be normal circumstances I would have repaired to a restaurant and filled the time with 1500 calories until Triple A arrived. For now, I am working on being grateful that the Duke Diet and Fitness Center is still open, although it won’t be 90 minutes from now. I am trying not to catastrophize about either the problem or the cost. The nice man will turn up with his set of picks, fix the lock, start the car and I will be on my way to the Candlewood Suites with enough money still in my bank account to pay my fat camp bill. I have to learn to deal with stressful situations without the aid of carbohydrate–but please God not tonight.