Almosts

I got hit by an 18-wheeler today, and my car--Jill, blue Honda Civic and love of my life--is no more. Well, at least I know what I'll get for my birthday in November. I have a few bruises here and there, and there's a gnarly knot on the side of my head, but aside from those minor injuries, I'm fine. I never saw the truck coming. One second I was driving out onto the lane to turn left, and the next I'm in a ditch with smoke in my mouth and an airbag in my eyes.

The accident was my fault. I failed to yield the right of way, and now I have a court date in December.

I have done nothing but screw-up ever since I came home in May. Getting kicked out, rejected by even Berry College, incurring cost after cost on the still-ongoing summer storage for my friend, and now this latest development.

The truck hit the front of the car. Had I driven the tiniest bit faster, the 18-wheeler would have collided into the driver's side, and the accident would have been a true T-bone. I don't think I would have lived.

More to follow.