Yesterday morning I crashed my car.
It was a minor accident, no damage to persons and both cars still thankfully drivable. The accident was embarrassingly all my fault. I was searching for a tissue because my nose had spontaneously started running (this is the only running I do these days), when I rammed up the back of a van that had stopped abruptly. I had planned to spend the day with bestie. We usually spend most Friday’s embarking on mini road trips in my car, and exploring the nuances of life together. There is much musing, and much laughter. We take my car simply out of habit, and maybe slightly because I’m a
massive teensy bit of a control freak and prefer to drive…I feel safer. Oh the irony! But yesterday, although I kept our plans, I was just too shaken to drive. Instead the bestie drove, and I was her ill-at-ease passenger.