Yesterday.

Yesterday was not a good day. I had been feeling a little strained this week anyway. I leave for Charleston tomorrow and will be gone for ten days. So excited. But I've got work pouring out of my ears, and only one coworker with as much work to do as I have to pick up the slack when I leave and I need to get my prospectus finished for my master's thesis in hopes that when I get back from Charleston I can hit it hard and get it finished up. Which means I've been putting extra hours in at work, taking a half hour break or so, and then it's right back to the computer for school work.

Yesterday, traffic was heavier and more parking lottish than usual. I didn't mind too much. The commute to work is kind of restful in a way. I can't do anything. Literally. All I can do is drive. It gives me time to think and reassert my emotional balance. I was in the process of doing so very successfully when I got banged up from behind. Luckily, nobody was moving quickly on the freeway. Things could have turned out a lot worse. Particularly when you compare the size of his GMC Sierra to my little civic. His car looked fine. My back bumper did manage to bend his front license plate in half (yeah, civic!). My car didn't fair quite as well.

I climbed out of my car, expecting the big man in the big car to take charge or be mad or something. But nothing. He just looked at me with his sad, little eyes and said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He clearly had no idea what to do.

I have been in a car accident before as the driver. Somebody ran a red light and I t-ed him. Also a big truck. That time, though, I was smart and had my parent's, massive van. Take that, red light runner. I was just 16 and was an emotional wreck. My experience there was no help yesterday.

I pulled my frazzled mind together, asked for his insurance and contact information, didn't take a picture of our cars (as I realized I should have after I got to work and sat down and had time to think a little bit), and didn't write down his license plate number (also as I should have). We did not file an accident report with the police. I was fine, he was fine, both our cars still worked, and didn't even look too banged up. I needed to get to work (remember impending vacation strain?), and I was struggling to function. I still feel good about that decision, but I should have gotten that picture.

Ah well. I filed a claim with his insurance yesterday and so far things seem like they will work out well. Fingers crossed he'll cooperate with the insurance when they verify the accident with him.

In the end. I'm grateful. For a lot of things. I'm grateful the big truck didn't smash into my car and bust up the trunk and push me into the car in front of me. I'm grateful the big truck didn't crush me, like it could have. I'm grateful that even if the insurance falls through and I have to pay for the damages myself, my car maintenance fund can handle the cost of the repairs with money to spare. But what I'm most grateful for is the experience. Yup, I said it. I'm glad someone ran into me on the freeway yesterday, and that I was already feeling strained and that it nearly put me over the edge. Someday, somebody is going to run into me again. Having dealt with it on frazzle brain with a driver who had no idea what to do or how to take care of it but could only say over and over again, "I'm sorry," will make it so much easier for me to deal with it later when maybe the other guy isn't so nice or the accident is a lot worse. I've done it once; dealt with it all on my own and did okay. I can do it again. Next time, I'll even do it better.