I never park on the street, but I had a dumpster delivered yesterday so put my car on Mt. Pleasant to make room for the truck. He needed to back in. I put The Hulk on the street, ran up to take a shower, and headed outside to drive to campus for the day. The neighbor across the street, however, was waiting for me. He didn't look in his rear view mirror and when he saw no cars were coming in either direction on Mt. Pleasant, he backed down the driveway, turned his wheel, and smacked right into the side of my car. He was devastated. "You never park there."
I was like, "These things happen, more often going backwards than forwards. At least we weren't on I-95 and no one was hurt"
The morning, nonetheless, ended up being a series of insurance companies, phone calls, and the necessity of wait time. It won't get tended to until next week and the car is still drivable. These things happen. The car is paid off. I wasn't in it, and he was okay. His bumper has minor scratches. Insurance will do what it's supposed to do.
And hungry from fasting, I simply went on with my day because it's all I could do. Today is the Men's Final Four. I have faith in the Great Whatever. Counting blessings and totally understanding that these things happen. It might put a monkey wrench into my week and holiday weekend, but I can't sweat the little things. It's life.
Happy National Poetry Month! It's April. There's so much writing still ahead.
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