I didn’t want to take Sammy to the doctor today. He’s on vacation. This is good because I won’t have to interrupt school or schedule around it. This is bad, because who want to go to the doctor on vacation? He’s not sick; he just needed an assessment, and seeing as it’s free if I do it 2009 (hello, 2 surgeries completely maxing out his out of pocket costs for the year) or hellaciously expensive if I wait a couple of weeks, so guess which one I picked?
To add inconvenience to my irritation, I had to take Sabrina along, guaranteeing the experience would be a challenge, to put it mildly.
It was. Enough said.
But we got through, Sammy got the attention he needed, I got the information I needed, and we went on our way. And then for the moment I will second guess myself for a long time coming; I decided to make a quick stop at a store to look for an item I certainly didn’t need before Christmas and was for me and not anyone else. Ugh.
It took about 6 minutes, they didn’t have what I wanted, and we fought our way back out of the overcrowed store and through the overcrowded parking lot. (Oh for goodness sakes, don’t people have to work the week before Christmas any more?) We started the trek home.
We came around the highway u-turn, slowed to merge into traffic when… something happened. It took me a good couple of second to realize we’d be hit. Someone had smacked into my car, the one we’ve only have for a year and a half, the one with only 12,000 miles (and would have considerably less if not for this summer’s road trip), the one we’re still paying for, oh good grief. I pulled over, checked the kids, checked myself, reminded myself to be grateful we were all OK, and shifted into get this taken care of as quickly as possible and don’t fall apart you emotional idiot mode. If anything, I was determined not to cry until I got home.
We exchanged information, and even though he hit me, he rear-ended me, and I know that means he’s at fault in this state, I worried this was somehow my fault. Maybe I should have just gunned it around the corner. My head knows I was being cautious, defensive as the insurance folks might put it, but my nature is to see everything as my screw up. I am the ultimate in guilt. And the nuns of the world rejoice that their work is done.
Everything is still in a state of flux, and it’ll be a while until everything is straightened out, but I’m home, the kids are fine (with milkshakes in their bellies for their trouble), the car still runs and has the most minor of minor damage (as visible, hopefully there’s nothing more wrong internally), and yes, am thankful. Surely it could have been a lot worse. But I’d be lying if I said I’m putting it all behind me. No matter what I do, it will fester in my head until I have concrete documentation that everything is fixed, finalized, and not attributed to me. I like to get things fixed – sure me, I’m an engineer.
But to get that ball rolling, a good glass or 3 of wine isn’t a bad start. I’m just saying.
I’ll be staying in tomorrow, just in case. And Santa, if you’re reading, please watch out for me on Christmas Eve. I’ve had enough this holiday season. I’ll really appreciate not having Rudolph’s hoof prints on the roof of my car.
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