Alright, so a lime green Kia. Yeah, that’s a thing, isn’t it? Can’t say I’ve ever driven one, or even been in one, come to think of it.
But it definitely makes you look, that’s for sure. You see a lime green car, especially a Kia, and it kinda sticks in your head.
I remember this one time, specifically. I wasn’t looking for cars, or colors, or anything really. I was just… well, I was in a bit of a rut. A big one, actually.
My old job, the one I thought was pretty stable? Yeah, that went poof. “Restructuring,” they called it. Always a fun word, “restructuring.” Means you’re out on your ear, mostly. So, I was spending my days trying not to freak out, drinking too much coffee, and wondering what the heck I was gonna do next.
There was this little greasy spoon diner I used to go to. Cheap breakfast, you know? Kept me going. And almost every single day, parked right out front, was this lime green Kia Soul. Seriously lime green. The kind that almost hurts your eyes in the sun.
I’d sit there, stirring my coffee, feeling all gloomy, and I’d just stare at this car. It was so… loud. So out there. And everything in my life felt quiet and stuck.
Then, after a few weeks of seeing this car, I finally saw the owner. I’d pictured someone young, maybe a bit wild. Nope. It was this older lady. Must’ve been in her late seventies. Tiny thing, with this bright, cheerful smile. She’d hop into that lime green box on wheels and drive off, happy as a clam.
And it kinda hit me. This lady, she just didn’t care what anyone thought. She liked her lime green Kia, and that was all that mattered. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, or fit in. She was just doing her thing.
It sounds silly, right? A car. But watching her, and that ridiculously bright car, it sort of shook something loose in me. I’d been so worried about what people would think if I tried something new and failed. Scared of looking like an idiot.
So, what did I do? I finally took that plunge I’d been terrified of. I’d always wanted to try my hand at baking, like, properly. Not just cookies for friends, but maybe starting a little something from home. It felt like a massive risk. What if no one bought anything? What if I was terrible under pressure?
But every time I’d start to doubt myself, I’d picture that lime green Kia. That unapologetic color. And that happy old lady.
Long story short, I started small. Just a few things, sold them at a local market. It was terrifying at first. But then people started liking my stuff. Really liking it.
I don’t go to that diner anymore. My life’s moved on. But I often think about that lime green Kia. Never knew the lady’s name, never spoke to her. But she, and her car, gave me a weird kind of courage when I really needed it.
Funny how things work out, eh? All from seeing a bright green car when I was feeling my lowest.
