Curses!

The woman who ran into me has decided that I was changing lanes at the same time she was, which is why we collided. This is patently untrue, but no one was kind enough to take time out their busy day to stop and be a witness, so it's her word against mine. Which means I'm screwed. I'm trying not to be bitter but with only moderate success. I almost always stop to give the people in an accident my name and number. It's irksome when karma refuses to return the favor. I guess I could track down the number of the bus next to me, but I'm not sure that would help.

The good thing is that, although the estimate was $2000 worth of damage to my car, most of it was minor scratches, so there is just one big dent and a bent rim that I would have to fix. If worse comes to worse, I'm going to get an estimate on those two things and see what it would cost for me to get them fixed myself rather than going through my insurance. I really don't want my rates to go up because of a bunch of scratches on my car. I can live with scratches. The car is five years old and already has a ton of scratches.

I alternate between wanting to cry about the whole thing and then realizing that it's just a damn car. I'm fine and, even more importantly, my daughter is fine. I'm blessed by that. Oh, to hell with it, I hope the old bat is affflicted with incurable and highly embarrasing personal itching.

Now, if only I had a few minutes to sit down and KNIT. Hubster doesn't get home until late and Bean goes to bed in half an hour. After she goes to sleep, I'm going to pour a glass of wine and get out a sock.