Everything Happens for a Reason

WARNING: Yes, every now and again you get an actual warning before a post because I can feel something very un-ladylike is about to spew forth from my fingers – it’s when my writing becomes less whatever it is and more about channeling Louis Black. In other words, I’m ANGRY and on the edge of becoming completely unable to monitor my language.

“Everything happens for a reason.” I don’t subscribe to this “theory”. There’s not some big master design where every little snowflake impacts the universe. I’m more the kind that thinks snowflakes happen because the conditions are right – a realist. That little flake didn’t fall on my nose to remind it was cold outside, to make me value nature more or remember the value of a good coat – it hit that spot because my honker was in the wrong place at the wrong time and that flake could have taken out an eye if I’d been in the wrong spot. The only theory I occasionally subscribe to is the one that declares the universe has a personal vendetta against me. I don’t know what I personally did to piss the universe off, but it’s gunning for me. Forget all the times when things are going right and I forget about the universe – that’s when it’s trying to lull me into thinking it’s safe to be outside again – and damn if I don’t fall for it every single time.

So, let’s back up a bit.

I’m at home. I’m at home on a work day. Why? It’s not that I don’t like being at home, but I was enjoying accruing leave. It’s because I can’t drive to work today. I can’t drive to work today because I don’t have a car and I need to spend the day chatting up insurance people. But thank GOD the woman who slammed into the back of it last night felt like “everything happens for a reason” and expressed that. She’s very lucky that I’m a calm person, because I just stared at her while thinking, “oh, is that reason that you’re a moron? Is that reason that you don’t understand that red lights and a series of brake lights means WE’RE NOT MOVING FORWARD MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T EITHER?”

Everything in my car flew forward – my glasses, everything in the little trays and the birthday cake my aunt saved for Jay. I hit the person in front of me (who hopped out, looked at his fender and then sped off). Then there was the sobbing mess of a person behind me and she had every right to be – her car was completely totaled with steam coming out and bits of car all over the road. Whereas, my car had a flapping bumper and a dislodged tail pipe. Let me say real quick “go little Honda Civic coupe”.

I called the police and the response time was an amazing 15-20 minutes so I got to know the driver. She called every person she knew and declared through heavy sobbing, “I’ve been in a wreck, I’m going to jail.” Why? Well, a few phone calls later, “I’ve been drinking…” Of course you have. She’d just been off work for 9 days with pneumonia, her mode of transportation was destroyed and she was in the dead center of a personal meltdown. “My life is over.” Every few minutes she’d come hang on me to let me know it was her fault. “No, no, it was mine. I shouldn’t have been born and this whole ugly thing could have been avoided. I shouldn’t have left the house. I shouldn’t have been in front of you. My bad.” Then there was the whole “I have no defense” which in 40 degrees without a coat, in traffic and waiting on the police sounds just like “I have no insurance”. I just stared blankly. Of course you don’t. Just a quick note, I’m not your go-to girl when you’ve just trashed my precious car and most of you know how I love my car.

Fortunately, Kendra was two cars in front of me, heard the wreck, went up a block to see if I’d pass and then came back when I didn’t. She doesn’t blog, so you won’t get to read about what my meltdown looked like. Kendra had to clarify the whole “insurance” “defense” mix-up later.

The police came, information was exchanged, the woman wanted to hug on me more (bad in almost any situation, but REALLY bad when you’ve trashed my precious) and I failed to get the car home. Seems that bits flew off at Kendra as we were driving down the road and the bumper was waving around like mad – threatening all behind it.

The car is now sitting in a parking lot waiting for me to figure out what the hell I’m doing today. I really hate dealing with crap like this. I hate that I’m going to be stuck on the phone telling this story over and over and over again to some drone. I hate that my precious is going to a body shop and I’m really trying hard not to get into a serious funk over accidents and my cars, because when I start the whole “I was never meant to own anything nice or anything good” people get twitchy and feel like they need to convince me that isn’t so despite all of the obvious proof. If “everything happens for a reason”, then it’s for that reason alone.

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2 thoughts on “Everything Happens for a Reason

  1. Lori says:

    Oh my god…car wreck AND hugs…a Beth D. molotov cocktail for sure. In my best Simpson’s comic guy voice I give you serious worst day EVER props.

  2. Beth says:

    Why? Why must they touch me? And Lori… she not only hugged, she draped herself around my neck. 😦

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