I Have This Problem... Reality? What's That?

I love my imagination. It has provided me with many hours of entertainment, escape, and fucked-up dreams.

But oftentimes, it can be potentially detrimental to my health and/or wellbeing. How? Take this morning for an instance. I had to drive into town to meet somebody, for a very innocent purpose. Once that was over, I logicallly decide to drive back home again. Checking the rear view mirror as would be recommended by any half decent driver and/or driving instructor, I notice that the person in the van behind me is the mother of a client I've had to drop recently (for Study and Health Related Reasons). Oh dear oh the person behind me is someone I know, Oh ho isn't it simply hilarious when that happens, oh dyou think they recognise me by the back of my car? Don't make eye contact, oh too late! Oh isn't this awkward haha let's smile and wave a little bit to show we recognise the awkward hilarity of the situation, keep holding that face until they turn off then we can relax! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!! Eeeeeeee?? EEEEEEEEEEEE!!?!?!? (which is the natural progression of the noise you subconciously  make when holding a forced smile and you keep expecting to be able to drop it but the moment never arises)
Said mother in said van continued to stay behind me, not deviating from her (my!) path. Okay, so she is just going up the same hill as me. She mows lawns: she must be going to a job. Wait. Is that an evil glint in her eye? STOP LOOKING IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR, she'll turn you to stone! Oh God, the van is inching closer. Well bitch, YOU have a lawnmower in the back of your vehicle, whereas I only have a vaccuum cleaner. Let's see who gets up this hill faster!
Needless to say I sped up the hill like a maniac going to a maniac convention on top of a hill, and at the intersection finally managed to lose her. Thanke Ye Godes. I became calmer and more aware of reality. The appearance of the strange walking man I call the Swinger put me at ease. I hadn't seem him for awhile. In fact was there a REASON he walked like that?? Maybe he's had a hip replacement, or some other sort of oper... OH GOD.
Evil Mother in the Van of Death had caught up to me, and there was a DEFINITE gleam of bloodlust in her eye. I'm sure I heard the lawnmower start of its own accord. Trying not to panic as I dodged parked cars (a task that would be easy if it were not for my impending doom putting a nasty spin on things) I frantically thought about my Zombie Plan. None of the scenarios that had been planned for counted on zombies that could DRIVE, let alone operate garden machinery. If I got out of this, some serious thoughts and adjustments needed happen. So basically, I was on my own. Without a paddle. Or a plan. One single thought in my mind started making itself heard above the hysterical din of all the others: DRIVE. DRIVE. DRIIIIIIIIVE.
So I drove. I drove like I've never driven before. Namely, because I've never been chased by a zombie lawnmower mother in a van before. I reached another intersection, convinced she would give up chase and go another direction. Zombies have a very limited attention span, you know. But oh hell and fury, she followed me still! I chanced a glance in the rearview mirror, her eyes locked onto mine and and I was suddenly very cold. I glanced back to the road. Crivens!! I had been veering slighly over to the next lane and into oncoming traffic!! I dodged a silver station wagon with ease, trying to pretend to the other driver I had a normal reason for almost crashing into him, like texting or fiddling with the radio, while secretly hoping Zombie Mother would get distracted and chase him instead. But no. She wanted me. I remembered with shock and glee the hairpin bends coming up. Maybe the topheavy van would lose traction and go over the side, while my wide wheel-based therefore good handling car would sail forth!
 But the bitch could drive just as well as I could. Dang. She'd done this before. My driveway was almost upon us, I had planned on zooming up it and, if she followed, using my knowledge of the land to my advantage to get away. That or getting our own lawnmower out of the garage at the house: lawnmower on lawnmower, the way zombie fights are MEANT to go down. At the last minute, however, I decided to check the mail, despite knowing it was too early for any to have been delivered. I'm devious like that. This ensured I would block the driveway and if she followed, she would crash into the back of me, destroying her motor but only damaging the back of my car. I swung wildly around the corner and skidded on the gravel up to the letterbox, narrowly missing the gaping ditch beyond.

She drove on past the driveway and into the distance. Probably to a lawnmowing job.

Clever bitch knew my plan.

And that is how I survived my Ten Minutes Of Terror. I will probably have to face her another day, but luckily for me, by that time I will have worked out my Zombie Plan- Vehicle and Lawnmower Driving Ability Scenario.

Bring it.