If I don't post on the blog or comment on other blogs in the next few days, it's because I got in a car accident yesterday and have a bunch of aftermath to deal with, not to mention lots of restaurant hours. Everyone is okay; the other driver and I are fine, and we both declined medical attention. I am, however, reeeeally sore in my neck, wrists, and seatbelt area. I've never been in a car accident before, but people I've talked to said the soreness should go away in a couple days.
The accident was my fault completely -- I rear-ended a pick-up truck. I know you're not supposed to admit fault in an accident, but I can't kid a kidder. I hit him, plain and simple. I just assumed traffic was moving at a certain pace, but the truck in front of me stopped suddenly while I was glancing at the dash (not my phone, and I have the bill to prove it!), and I didn't react in time. My tires didn't even get a chance to leave skid marks on the road. I know now not to get too comfortable with traffic when it's 4:55 on a Friday afternoon.
I had been driving to work at the time, ready and caffeinated for what I hoped was a busy night. It took two hours to go through the police stuff, file an insurance claim, clean up the wreck, and wait for the tow truck. Then, I made another stupid decision: I went to work. The restaurant let me go home after just a couple of hours, because I was a freaking mess... spilling and dropping things, tripping, randomly getting really upset, forgetting small stuff for my tables... it didn't really help that they put me in a very busy, fast-paced section, but it isn't their fault. I'm not blaming them; I shouldn't have been at work. I was in no condition. I took five or so tables and then my fiancé picked me up.
Speaking of my fiancé (plus my dad and my cousin David, both of whom came to the site of the accident to check on me or offer to drive me somewhere), he's been a saint. He took me to get a rental car this morning, and with all the questions the rental place asked me about insurance that I didn't know any answers to (and no real way to find out those answers), the possibility of being late for work, realizing how sore I was, and being overwhelmed in general, I was probably a nightmare to deal with. My hands were trembling, I was short-tempered, and I'd end up in tears at a sideways glance. But through everything, he just calmly said, "I'm just happy you're okay."
My car is not okay. I haven't gotten a call from the collision repair shop yet, but my Camry is undrive-able. The driver of the pick-up had the evil forethought to have a hitch on the back of his vehicle, and that little fucker went about a quarter of the way through the contents of my hood. So when the accident happened, my radiator went "screw this" and leaked all kinds of copper-colored fluid. That was an insult to injury: My car looked like it was bleeding out onto the street. And I'm the one who cut it.
In keeping with an effective apology strategy that I recently read about and posted on Facebook, I'd like to apologize to my car.
I'm sorry, car. It was wrong of me to take you and Friday rush hour traffic for granted. I will never do that again, I vow to always pay attention while driving, and I still want to be friends. Will you forgive me?