In Remembrance of Me: When you get the good karma back

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

When you get the good karma back

I had one of those days yesterday. But really, it was a glass half full day, when I think about it. I went down to the check cashing store to cash a check we got for overpayment from the insurance company. We didn't have enough to cover it in the bank until John gets paid on Friday so when that happens I usually just go to the check cashing store, especially when I need gas like I did yesterday. So anyway, they wouldn't cash the check because John's name was on it and he doesn't have his own card at the check cashing store. Grrrrrrr So I left really POd. I turned the wrong way, so I had to go back up to catch the highway at the other end of the street, which is a wicked convoluted mess of intersections they just finished a year or so ago. I manage to get onto the stretch of highway I want and I'm driving along. I'm debating whether to go down Route 1 or stay on 295, when my brain just kind of short circuts. I really don't remember much until I realize I'm going way too fast down the exit to Route 1 and the car is spinning sideways. I manage to correct the spin, but realize I'm going off the road no matter what I do. Somehow, I have the presense of mind to survey my options, head into the small grassy patch before the junction of the underpass, slam on the breaks and hit the only little copse of bushes abutting the guardrail on the overpass. Not only that, but my loverly little Subaru slows down to the point that even though I hit the bush and the guardrail behind it straight on, it didn't even set off the airbag.

So once I realize that I'm not dead, the car's not on fire, and I'm not going through the guardrail, I listen to the car. It's still running, the radio's still playing, so I put it in reverse and give it a little gas. It rolls a couple inches with no trouble. So I give it a bit more gas and pull completely off the bush. I put it in park, get out and go around to check the front of my poor little car. Aside from some smudges from the bush, it looks pristine. I look under the front end and aside from smelling burnt rubber, it looks perfectly fine. "Could have been worse" I say to myself. I get back in the car and back up so I'm pointed toward the road. Put it in drive and ease it onto the offramp. No flat tires, the wheel isn't pulling, no funny knockings or screechings, so I start off down the road. I call John and leave a message, then I call the Car Guy to see if he can take a look at it on my way home.

I spent most of the rest of the day in a wicked daze. Really. Cause during all that, there wasn't another car on the road with me anywhere. I hit the only grassy bit with the only bush and I was driving a very sturdy little car. (I HIGHLY recommend Subarus now, by the way. They handle AMAZINGLY well.) And I walked away, and the car drove away relatively unscathed. One of the Car Guy's guys looked at it and said it was absolutely fine.

I don't know where it came from and I'm not sure I care, but I must say I'm grateful to get a little good karma back once in a while.

So there's something for us all to ponder. Peace out.