Sunday, September 12, 2004
 

If I Were A Horse, You'd Shoot Me

I have never so much as opened a car door on another person. Today, I successfully backed out into a neighbor's car. In my defense, he was parked far over the line, and there was a true downpour going on at the time, but the fact remains that it's my fault. I maintained a brave face through knocking on his door, telling him what happened, and producing my insurance. I next called Holmes and cancelled out on plans to go to a Greek Festival, and then I sat down and cried.

I am so annoyed with myself. First, my car had to be winched. Then I locked my keys in (first time ever). Now this. I think this is a sign that I should give up driving altogether. It certainly doesn't help that I hate to drive in the first place, and all of these mishaps really aren't helping any. I've become the stereotype of the careless driving woman, I think.

I dented the side of the neighbor's car; it was white, and red paint from my car also transferred. I also broke part of his tail light. It looks like someone punched in the corner of my bumper, but I'm much less worried about my car than about his.

I'm so frustrated. All of this is the result of my own carelessness, clumsiness, spaciness, whatever you want to call it. I'm becoming more inept by the day. At least the other incidents only affected me, but I feel positively horrible about dinging someone else's car.

At least the guy's dog (DJ) was glad to see me.

Elvisette philosophized at 10:09 PM