I hesitate to even write about this, because quite frankly it’s a bit embarrassing. I have attempted and failed to reattach my rear view mirror to my Jeep. Twice.

My feelings of masculine adequacy have taken a hit, as well as my own assessment of my handyman skills. I might as well just go ahead and burn that man card now.

I’m ready at this point to pay someone to put the #*&% thing on. I don’t care. I just want to look behind me when I’m driving without having to do a full-on Linda Blair Exorcist head twist. You really don’t appreciate little things like rear view mirrors until they’re not there (or sitting in the passenger seat of your car).

Still, if that’s the worst thing that happened to me all week, I’m doing okay. Actually, more than merely okay. I’m good.

And you know what? Life without a rear view mirror is doable. Inconvenient but doable.

As a reminder, I pass along what my boss at my old job used to say that any day without a toe tag is a good day.

Today, I agree.