I have said, frequently, that I am a lucky person.
Last October, an ancient man in a brand new Cadillac Seville t-boned the car I was driving on the passenger side. He was cruising along at about fifty miles per hour and my vehicle, known as Elvis, was decimated. Every day, I deal with the injuries from that accident and they have truly impacted my life, but my kid was totally unharmed.
Tonight, while stopped at the traffic light at Kingshighway and Arsenal, a loopy woman dressed for the club scene plowed into the back of Elvis' successor, breaking the rear axle and knocking the left back tire off completely. She then swerved and hit the two cars in front of me as well. Luckily, I had adequate space between my front bumper and the van next in line, and there was no chain reaction of rear-endings. I walked away, with only a bump on the head and a seatbelt bite on my chest, from another SUV requiring a lift from a flat bed tow truck.
Am I disappointed about yet another car accident? You bet. Is this a really inconvenient time to have to deal with having no ride and insurance companies? Hell, yeah. Will I be sore tomorrow? Absolutely.
Each day I feel immensely grateful to be alive, to be walking and to have two incredible daughters. My parents cherish me. I have a few friends and a couple of bucks. I am loved.
And for all that, I am lucky.