It was Valentine's Day, and my boyfriend (Kellen) and I--strapped for cash for any serious festivities--had decided to drive out to the Oregon Coast to have lunch with his parents and see the aquarium. It was a quick day trip with a free lunch(!), and we'd get back to the Kellen's that evening with plenty of time to walk the dog. We got up fairly early, ready to hit the road. I harangued Kellen into letting me drive my car since it was about 7 years newer (it was a 2003 Hyundai Elantra--swank), and I wanted to prove that I could handle the mountain pass roads like a man (as opposed to the granny that I generally am.)
We made it into Newport about an hour later. We were on 101, a five-lane road, driving slowly in the right lane since the left lane was bumper to bumper and I was half-expecting some douchebag to pull out in front of me. Then, out of nowhere, Kellen shouts my name, and...
Just like that the airbags deploy, the car is on the sidewalk, and everything is fucked up.
It took me ten minutes to find out the following: someone in the packed left lane had waved a woman sitting in the center lane waiting to turn left through, and the woman went right on across without bothering to see if anything else was coming in the right lane. Which meant she pulled out directly in front of me traveling at an awesome 35 mph.
Afterward, everyone tells you things like, "Just be happy that nobody got hurt," and "Cars can be replaced. You can't."
The thing is, that's bullshit. This stupid accident, which happened because of someone else's stupidity, completely screwed up my Valentine's Day and in fact the entire rest of the 3-day weekend I'd been looking forward to since New Years. (Not getting another of those until June.) It totaled my car, which was completely paid off and had a $60/mo. insurance rate. It meant that I'd have to spend hours on the phone with insurance officers, hours in the DMV away from work (where I have almost zero time off), hours on car lots looking at new cars, and lots and lots of money to pay for a new car and the higher insurance premiums that come with it. Money that I don't have, because I'm 24, working a shit job in a cubicle 40 hours a week, and struggling to make ends meet as a single, childless woman who has taxes to pay in a couple of weeks, along with all my other ridiculous bills.
This day is perhaps unique in that it was physically, emotionally and financially more traumatic than what has happened on any other day of my 20-something life. But it's not really unique in that, as usual, something unexpected, unplanned, and completely not my fault has happened and dicked over my almost non-existent free time, leisure, and financial situation. Oh, and to the Boomer who pulled out in front of me: thanks for proving yet again, your only talent in this world is to screw over my generation.
This is a blog about a typical twenty-something and the typical bullshit a twenty-something has to endure any given day of the week.