Posted on: November 26, 2013

Sunday night, on the way home after dinner, I saw a car coming at me. Yup. At me. As in, not in their lane.  Sure enough, she slammed into me, narrowly missing a head-on collision but hitting my driver’s side back tire.

I spun out of control and ended up facing the direction I had come from.

Luckily and surprisingly, neither me nor my friend who was with me, nor the other driver was hurt.  Nor was there anyone else involved in the accident, and we thankfully did not roll down the ditch that was right next to us.

I got out, walked over and asked her what happened and she said she “just looked down because her foot was caught on something.” Let’s go ahead and call bullshit on that – I’m sure it was something to do with her phone.

Anyway, she got a ticket and I just got the call today that my car is repairable!

After the accident, the cop asked how my friend and I were getting home, and we asked if he could drop us.

So, for the first (and hopefully last) time ever, I was in the back of a cop car! It was super exciting and funny for a little bit – until we started to think of who usually sits back there.

When he finally got in the car, we asked him what gross things happen in the back?

And he says: “Oh, it just got scrubbed but people poop back there all the time.”

WHAT THE FUCK! Now I have to burn some clothes.  Gross.

But, there’s just another reminder that I’m single and lonely.  There’s no one to even come get me after a traumatic incident! (Besides my friends, who I know would’ve showed up in a heart beat). One more reason to be married, happily or not.

Annnnnddddddd………. my friend who I was with was a girl I met at the marriage convention. (All signs point to me being lesbian at this point. Sheesh.)  Anyway, I had been talking/flirting with her cousin (a guy, just to be clear) and I never pursued it seriously because although he was cute/fun/flirty I didn’t think he was that smart AND …superficially… he doesn’t have the best job.

I knew that long-term, that would really bother me.


I guess this is proof that I’m seriously picky – a doctor got over the issues that I had about earning more than him, about him not having the best job, about him being close to my age but not being settled.  I mean, he moved back in with his parents so he could save some money – responsible, yes. Acceptable? Not to me.  Acceptable to a DOCTOR? Apparently.

I know I’m the reason I’m single. I know that. But I hate when it gets reinforced.






4 Responses to "Reinforcements"

That’s awful! Hope you’re feeling ok

Thx! I’m ok, luckily. Just another reminder of everything! Blah.

To be honest, I think the job thing would have gotten to me over time, as well (at least if I knew that he could do better, but wasn’t motivated to do so). I’m glad you’re doing okay from the accident!

[…] I’ve heard that before. And as one of my friends recently told me: “You have shit taste in […]

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