Windshield Wipers Vs. Will's Sanity (1545 to 1)

New windshield wipers... is it sad that getting new windshield wipers completely made my day? The answer is YES. it is sad, and i'll explain why.  

 

It begins with the fact that the new wipers didnt just put a little grin on my face, but more along the lines of I "burned an iron mark through my shirt/ironing board/foot as i was thinking about how... 'right' the world was, now that my windshield wipers wiped with the greatest of ease". 

I'd like to think that i dont get uptight about too many things. i'll let my room get dirty (as in: i'll let a hurricane hit my room, and as long as the bed is still there, i'll sift through the wreckage to sleep on the mostly-not destroyed-soft-thing), i'll wear pretty much whatever isnt dirty (sometimes i even bend this rule), as long as my food has no sweet potatoes, yams, or doesnt get mixed with that toothpaste flavor right after you brush your teeth, i'll muscle whatever you put on the plate in front of me down the gullet. I actually dont care if my socks have holes in them. I've driven a totaled car... that had a crater on the side of it... that i bought for $610... through high school and college (and still somehow went on dates). I've decided "no, i dont need to take a shower this week" while camping.  I'll draw on my hand if i get bored, and i'll watch just about any movie as long as i dont have to watch another Paul Walker movie or another high school romance movie (a combination of the two might just be the personification of pure, hideous evil... i am probably going to hide in a cave now to try and escape this inevitable train wreck).  But for some reason, i'm a windshield wiper psycho. 

Even I find it disturbing, in that OCD way,that i end up using the 16 different windshield wiper settings that let you control the interval of wipe to the nearest 1/2 second. it's like i'm subconsciously counting the raindrops on my windshield, and as soon as the count reaches 183, those windshield wipers had BETTER get moving, or ELSE!!! And if you were wondering: yes... it is easy to tough talk the windshield wipers... they just dont stand up for themselves. i mean: REALLY?!?!?! I'm that anal about the wipers?!?! and the answer is "yes... really"

my old car (and this is about the only thing i remember about the car) had 3 wiper settings... the first setting was: once every 6 months, the second was: turbo psychotic mode, and the third was: go so fast, that the blur of windshield wipers would be more of an obstruction to your vision than the rain itself.  that car ran like a sewing machine for 8 years... i NEVER spent a dime on it other than gas... I hated it.  the windshield wipers sucked.

and the SQUEAK.  Eff the windshield wiper squeak.  they might as well have been little voices telling me to drive off the cliff and kill everyone in the car, just to silence the wiper squeak for good.

or when the wipers skipped across the windshield instead of ran smoothly across.  it's entire purpose in life was to clean my windshield and it had the AUDACITY to SKIP sections of it?!?!?! this is basically the same as automotive high treason.  i've had windshield wipers taken out back and shot for less.

And this is my most unnerving pet peeve... the windshield wipers that come equipped with a thin layer of crap to spread all over the window that i want cleaned.  initially i'd want to use the windshield wipers to clean off my window but soon realize that what i had REALLY done was press the "suicide via blind driving on the freeway" lever.  not only are the wipers NOT doing their job, but they are making it WORSE than when they had started.  i have this inkling that they are mocking me.

so, a combination of all of my wiper-hates had been plaguing me for the past 6 months.  the only thing i COULD do was precisely control the interval at which they tortured me on a rainy day. 

now, lets go full circle.  they day i changed them out, the air smelled fresher... food tasted better... i beat video games easier... and not even Paul Walker's acting skills could have gotten me down.  my nervous tic subsided, and i was no longer an emotional wreck inside the car.  i'm happy!!!

... for now... until these wipers start to get old, and begin anew the tyrannical car/window terrorism maliciously/meticulously meant for me.  

do me a favor: if you see my face twitching in nervous spasms, go ahead and change my windshield wipers.  (sometimes i'm too prideful to ask for help)