bliss-sad's Diaryland Diary



I hit a deer on my way to work yesterday. I'm totally fine, but the car is pretty fucked up. The thing I was most angry about, however, was watching the little bastard skip merrily away from the scene of the accident.

Luckily, my husband and I opted out of online car insurance and went for a grown-up policy with a brick and mortar business so my claim ended up getting covered.

Thousands of dollars worth of damage, but at least I have a check to give to the mechanic.

Ordinarily this wouldn't be that big of a deal. Cars, along with most objects, are something I don't place a great deal of importance or value on (generally speaking). I'm taking the shattered bumper and dinged up hood pretty hard right now, though, because my husband and I bought that car in lieu of having a wedding.

We bought that beautiful silver beast and drove to Nevada, braving mountains and multiple states. And I fucking crashed it.

It's fine. Mechanically, it's still sound.... All the damage is cosmetic, and most importantly, I made it out completely in tact. I'm just so angry at myself. At the deer. At the situation.

I'm experiencing a lot of shame lately. I would say that it's my dominate emotion right now. I am ashamed at myself for not being able to wave a magic wand and fix the wasteland that life has turned into.

Okay, okay, so even I can see that I'm being incredibly dramatic, but I'm just depressed. I am so over problem solving and fixing things and sorting through emotions and brainstorming solutions to shit that's, like, wayyyyyyy above and beyond my current level of understanding.

On the other hand, my brother recently had his drivers license revoked for 18 months for getting a DUI while driving on a suspended I am doing this whole adulthood thing the right way.

If such a thing even exists.

1:06 p.m. - 10.30.14


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