So Here Goes…

I’m a 24-year-old newlywed. I have very few complaints in life… really! My husband is incredible, I love my job,  and frankly, things are pretty dang awesome. But I think vehicles are trying to kill me…

Call me paranoid if you must, but in the course of ONE WEEK, I was rear-ended, hit by a truck and had a rock the size of pluto hurled at my windshield. To be fair, not one of these events was terribly damaging to my little Honda (God bless her…), but these events all add up to a conspiracy.

For those of you a little lost at the moment, allow me a paragraph of explanation (if you have already heard my tails of woe, feel free to skip this paragraph, I promise it won’t offend me… much). Part 1: the rear-ending. I was stopped a few feet behind a car, glanced up in my rearview mirror to check my hair and see a car rapidly approaching my bumper. She hit me hard enough to shove me into the car in front of me and give me a headache for a day and a half. Part 2: the truck. Josh and I are driving through are (treacherous) parking lot at the apartment complex and are headed around a curve when the car doesn’t turn (due to the sheet of snow and ice on the pavement), we slide into the oncoming lane and a truck (going far too fast for a parking lot) slides into us. Part 3: the rock. I’m driving down Lima Road minding my own business thinking that today was going to be an accident-free day when a garbage-truck-type vehicle pull into my lane and propels a rock that will be a planet before Pluto is readmitted to the list into my windshield! And where does this orb hit on my windshield? Oh you guessed it, right at eye-level on the driver’s side. No, there wasn’t a crack in the glass (God bless my little Honda), but still… that’s just wrong!

All this suffices to say that cars are (currently) not my friends and have plotted against me. Or maybe I’m just paranoid…

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