at the car wash

This weekend I did something that scares me. I wouldn’t say I’ve conquered my fear, but I’m one step closer to not being afraid.

So what did I do?

I went through a car wash.

Yes, you read that correctly. Car washes freak me out, especially the ones common at gas stations here in Omaha, where you pull into a garage, put the car in park and wait as the spinning brushes move up and down the length of your car.

I don’t know what I think might happen. Maybe I’m afraid that the brushes won’t stop spinning and I’ll be trapped in the car wash forever. I don’t know. It’s not a rational fear. But I like clean cars, and since my husband isn’t home to get them washed, I have to do it myself.

(Confession: A couple of weeks ago, I made my friend J drive through the car wash at Bucky’s with me.)

What at some of your irrational fears? Help a sister out. Share your fears so I feel less ridiculous about my car wash phobia.

(image source)