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You may have already guessed from the userpic of this entry that something else has happened to my car. You'd be right. I'm okay and the car is driveable. :)
As I was leaving work tonight to get to the Fiction Workshop, someone rear-ended me. Her Subaru Outback was barely damaged. The rear bumper and lower half of the hatch-back (rear door?) of my Honda Element are going to have to be replaced. The car is drivable, I'm fine, she was fine, but the floor of my car was littered with the contents of my dashboard and the trays connected to it. I remember feeling an odd "pattering" sensation on my legs and I thought glass had broken, but it was the coins in my change tray flying off and scattering all over the place. An odd feeling.
She was super nice about it, as was I. Nothing we could do but deal with it, after all. Shit happens. She gave me her information (name, email, phone numbers, license plate), I gave her mine. We drove off.
She works at the CDC, a few buildings over from the building I work, in the same "industrial park."
It took me...20 minutes, tops, to get to the book store where my workshop meets. By the time I got there, cranked up my Macbook, connected to the Internet, and checked email and Geico, she had already called her insurance company (Geico, just like me), given them her information and mine, and I got calls from Geico and from her, neither of which I could answer because I was learning about Sex and Violence in Fiction. :) The claim was already open and waiting for my perusal.
So if I have to get rear-ended, I guess she's the ideal person to have hit me. I wasn't the least bit angry because I've done the same thing she did, although I didn't damage the car of the guy I hit nearly as much as she damaged mine. If I had to guess what happened (she said she just plain didn't see me, and asked if I'd pulled in off the interstate), she was right behind me and saw me pull ahead, and immediately started looking for her own opening to merge into traffic, and didn't notice that I had stopped because the opening I saw was taken by someone else. So she saw an opening and punched the gas...and hit me because I was about 30 feet farther ahead than she was.
So, really, nothing I don't understand from her POV.
So...soon, I'll be taking my car back to the shop to be worked on. Again. And driving a rental car for a day or two. Again. Whee.
Mortality by Jad Abumrad & Robert Krulwich from WNYC's Radiolab (Rating: 0)
As I was leaving work tonight to get to the Fiction Workshop, someone rear-ended me. Her Subaru Outback was barely damaged. The rear bumper and lower half of the hatch-back (rear door?) of my Honda Element are going to have to be replaced. The car is drivable, I'm fine, she was fine, but the floor of my car was littered with the contents of my dashboard and the trays connected to it. I remember feeling an odd "pattering" sensation on my legs and I thought glass had broken, but it was the coins in my change tray flying off and scattering all over the place. An odd feeling.
She was super nice about it, as was I. Nothing we could do but deal with it, after all. Shit happens. She gave me her information (name, email, phone numbers, license plate), I gave her mine. We drove off.
She works at the CDC, a few buildings over from the building I work, in the same "industrial park."
It took me...20 minutes, tops, to get to the book store where my workshop meets. By the time I got there, cranked up my Macbook, connected to the Internet, and checked email and Geico, she had already called her insurance company (Geico, just like me), given them her information and mine, and I got calls from Geico and from her, neither of which I could answer because I was learning about Sex and Violence in Fiction. :) The claim was already open and waiting for my perusal.
So if I have to get rear-ended, I guess she's the ideal person to have hit me. I wasn't the least bit angry because I've done the same thing she did, although I didn't damage the car of the guy I hit nearly as much as she damaged mine. If I had to guess what happened (she said she just plain didn't see me, and asked if I'd pulled in off the interstate), she was right behind me and saw me pull ahead, and immediately started looking for her own opening to merge into traffic, and didn't notice that I had stopped because the opening I saw was taken by someone else. So she saw an opening and punched the gas...and hit me because I was about 30 feet farther ahead than she was.
So, really, nothing I don't understand from her POV.
So...soon, I'll be taking my car back to the shop to be worked on. Again. And driving a rental car for a day or two. Again. Whee.
Mortality by Jad Abumrad & Robert Krulwich from WNYC's Radiolab (Rating: 0)
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Gloom, despair and agony on me (WHOA!)
Deep, dark depression, excessive misery (WHOA!)
If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all (WHOA!)
Gloom, despair and agony on meeeeeee....
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If this happened in a story, you'd end up marrying her.
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