Below is an illustration of my mood today, the day after I wrecked my car. My old reliable '93 Corolla was smashed on each end yesterday, and I think it's totaled. Pete was talking about fixing it, but I'm not sure yet.
I was on my way to Goodwill yesterday (shortly after saying to myself, "I've been inside too long; I think I'll go to Goodwill") when I noticed the car in front of me slowing down really fast. I think someone ahead was turning. I couldn't stop in time and smashed into them, and the guy behind me hit me, mashing my trunk in to reveal the vacuum cleaner en route to said destination. I hit my head on the steering wheel, requiring another trip to the dry cleaners (darn wool) to get a couple of bloody spots off.
Thankfully, the couple and their little kid behind me were OK and their car was driveable. Mine was not. I guess the car in front of me was fine, too, because whoever was inside drove off after briefly pulling over and, I guess, making sure no one died or something.
At any rate, it took the cops a while to get there, then it took the wrecker forever to get there. I did get to sit inside an EMS vehicle, but got the icky news that I needed stitches. We missed urgent care hours by literally a minute and I had to go to the ER, which I'm sure won't be cheap. At least they gave me some Saltine packets and a mini can of Diet Shasta Twist Lime Lemon (not Lemon Lime). I had ugly blue stitches sticking out of my ... whatever the part above your eyelid but below your eyebrow is called ... for one of my interviews for work today. It's still bruised, but no biggie. They should be out by Monday.
But the really good news is that my aunt and uncle are extremely generous and letting me and Pete have their '95 Maxima that they take wonderful care of. I can't thank them enough. If we can't fix my Toyota, I'll miss it dearly, but I think we can get used to cruise control and a sunroof.
I hate that all this happened, but it's a blessing that no one was hurt and that I have an amazingly supportive family.