The van started making a noise today. I have to admit that I'm a bit crestfallen at this development. There is only one way this can go. I know how it will pan out; you know how it will pan out. It's always the same with these things.
I hear a noise. Something that's different. Something that's not The Same as the other 500,000 times I've piloted this red beast. It catches my ear and piques my interest. It momentarily causes concern and then swiftly leaves my brain as I think upon other more pressing matters. And then I'll hear it again, perhaps at a stop light, or in a parking lot. And I'll wonder.
And I'll be the only one who will hear it. Ever. I'll try to get Dan to hear it. "There!" I'll tell him, "Can't you hear it?" He'll nod politely and say, "I think so...", but the furrow to his brow will assure me that he does not. (How can he not hear it?? It's right there!)
Eventually my worrying will convince him to call our mechanic and make an appointment. I'll spend 10 minutes trying to get him to hear it too. "It's right there. Hear it? It's like a swishing sound....just under the hood. I hear it right now. Don't you?" And he'll slap me with "That Look". The one they reserve for people like me; people who are "hearing noises".
I'm sure they'll look at the van. "Give it the once over", they'll probably say. And when they do call a few hours later, it will be to tell me that everything checked out. No problems. Come and pick it up.
And it is okay. No lights are on. No warnings. It's just me and The Sound. That stupid, stupid, stupid sound that only I can hear. Forever being just different enough for me to pick up on and for no one else to notice.
I think I'll just skip all the steps between worry and acceptance this time, making it easier on myself.
My van started making a noise today. And apparently I'm okay with that.