Norman...

So, until Verity, my car, gets her engine replaced, the car dealership has loaned me a new car who I call Norman. Essentially there is nothing wrong with Norman. He is 6 months newer than Verity but basically the same car, model and make. The thing is he’s grey. Grey. I’m so not a grey person. Verity is lime green. Norman is grey. I lose Norman in car parks because there are so many other cars like him. It’s not Norman’s fault. Clearly I have issues when it comes to grey. I don’t hate it. It’s just boring and staid and when I get inside Norman I know there is no adventure that will befall us. Yes, some may say that’s a good thing because the recent excitement of the guts of the engine falling out of Verity was probably too much adventure – yet I just feel blah in Norman. Poor Norman. If I was keeping him I would tart him up. But I’m not. The best I can do is track sand into his seats and carpets from the Esplanade and the beach and sing loudly as we drive along to make him feel less ‘meh.’ I expect whomever ends up buying Norman will love him and may wonder every so often when the volume mysteriously goes up on the car radio….