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One Damn Thing After Another
One Damn Thing After Another
I'm about to come home from work, when my eyes are dried out. I shift my contacts. Only instead of making my eyes water and fixing the problem like it usually does, it scratches my eye. So I put my contacts into my emergency holder at work and wait for my eye to feel better.
An hour and a half of unplanned overtime later, I'm feeling good enough to leave work and drive my usual hour commute home with my contacts in again.
Only now it's Mad City Rush Hour. Which means accidents galore. And wouldn't you know it...
So, since 12 north is just closed off with no detour posted or warning whatsoever ... time to wander my way through countryside I don't know with tons of other people doing the same and hoping that whoever is leading this pack knows where they're going, and is going the same direction I am.
Well, luckily, it worked. I may be adding at least an extra half hour to my commute, but at least I'm getting there now. Only just as I'm about to get back on 12, north of the closure, I stop at the stop sign ... and get rear-ended by the guy behind me.
My first instinct was to be mad. I mean hell, like my day hasn't gone bad enough. But, hell, chances are his day was probably bad too. I mean we're both stuck in the same crappy not-posted detour, right? So I check my anger and ask if he's okay instead of yelling at him for being an idiot. Which isn't easy to do with all that adrenaline running through your system.
It was a very low-speed impact. My rear bumper was scratched. The paint suffered, but no dents or anything. His car was fine, because it was his license plate holder that hit my bumper. So I said screw it, at over 212,000 miles, my car isn't worth $#!7 anyway, and hell if a scratch on a bad day for everyone is worth his insurance payment going up like a rocket just to fix a paint job that's already flaking elsewhere, that covers a plastic part that won't rust. There seemed to be no structural damage. I mean it was creeping speed. He was just being a clue, expecting me to roll through the stop sign instead of actually stop, and doing goodness knows what instead of looking where he was going. But no one was hurt, so I said have a good day, and we got on with our lives.
Then when I finally make it home, there's the bill for the co-pay of my wife's last ER visit. Joy.
And since I had laundry to do in anticipation of the trip to my sister's for the weekend (I'm probably leaving Friday night, from work, since it's silly to go from Madison to Baraboo just to pass through Madison again on the way to Illinois) then I didn't have the opportunity to get my walk in.
And I should have been to bed by 7.30, because I'm just darn wiped, but the ex's laundry was in the washer. So I finished my laundry at 8.30. Then checked my email to catch up with my sister before I leave, and will be getting to bed just after 9 now. **sigh** With another salad dinner.
Some days are just better than others. And some make you wish you'd just had the foresight to crawl under the covers, call in sick, and never leave the darn house. Is there a rewind button on life?