This will be great material for my book

I can't remember how many memories I've had that make for perfect writing fodder. No really - I can't remember. There's been lots. Each time one of those moments comes I stop and think to myself, "Now this will be great material for my book," and then I regret the fact that I'm not actually writing a book.

When I do sit down to write, I see two pieces to myself - the tragedy and the comedy - eternally in struggle against one another. Personally, I think comedy has the upper hand, but don't tell tragedy I said that - it may try to even the odds.

For example. One day, I took my car in to get the oil changed. My good friend who worked with me was coming to pick me up. As she slowed down to pull into the parking lot, an armored van filled with money rear-ended her silver Saturn. The impact sent her car flying up through the air over the curb and into my parked car. I turned around when I heard the first impact to see her car land in my car, without even noticing the van that had hit her. I stumbled out into the parking lot in a bit of shock. When I got to her car, the only thing I could think to ask was, "April, why did you hit my car?"

Of course further shenanigans ensued when the woman driving the van full of money was not allowed to roll down her bullet-proof windows (which do an amazing job of masking sound). So much of the usual post-accident conversation took place with hand motions and pantomiming. Needless to say we didn't make it to work, and my car needed a touch more than an oil change.

The tragedy of the situation is far outweighed by the cosmic absurdity it presents. How many times in life do we go down the wrong hallway, take the wrong turn, make the wrong decision only to find ourselves caught in a vortex of ridiculousness? Everytime it happens I have the same thought.

This will be great material for my book.