Wounded girl

Poor, poor Jules. She’s pretty badly banged up- well the front left side of her anyways. I had a car accident yesterday morning, driving between the pool and work. I’m okay, the other driver is okay, his damages minimal and fully covered by my insurance. I’m left with my head still spinning, disturbed by his brisk and arrogant attitude “these things are always such a pain”. I had never been in a ‘live’ collision before (my last two incidences involved parked cars) and was visibly shaking as he copied my information down and gave me his. I’m angry that I let him intimidate me in that way, and that I believed him when he said we didn’t need to call the police and insisted that my car was fine to drive (it wasn’t, but I managed to get it from there to my boyfriends house about 10 blocks away without further incident).

The rest of the day was a blur, from phoning in to work bawling with the cat holding my hand (so very sweet), swinging by my lovely chirowoman to bring me down a couple dozen levels, to the nice lady at the insurance place reassuring me that it was all going to be fine, to renting the car and filing the police report, lunch, and some retail therapy. Funny how a stressful situation evokes the urge to do three things: eat, shop and drink. Which we did, when all was said and done, and toasted to our fourth monthiversary. Finally able to smile and think to ourselves one day we’ll look back to this day and think what an extraordinarily unusual way to spend it it was.