It was strange contemplating the prospect of repeating a journey precisely 24hrs after having nearly killed myself on it the day before. An involuntary shiver passed through me as I was on my lunch break, which incidentally was at three this morning. I am aware now that I spent much of yesterday in shock without apprehending it. Shaking for three hours was probably the giveaway, but I hadn't put the pieces together at the time. I wonder how many inches differentiated between what was a side swipe, as opposed to a head on collision? I was lucky to experience the former rather than the latter.
So anyway, that's my car buggered. Royally, as it happens. Front wheel at some absurd angle, the offside door steadfastly refusing to close. The cost of the repair would likely flirt too closely with the actual cost of the vehicle, meaning that as they say, is that.
Still, could be worse. I could be in hospital. Worse, I could have hospitalised someone else. And this is the worst of it; I'm perfectly prepared to be the author of my own downfall, but to inconvenience and harm others is to me a horrible thing. And beyond the accident itself I now deprive my wife and children of the other car by virtue of my need to use it for work. Joy and I had talked about doing this, but I don't believe she had expected my decision to be quite so unilateral. You know something, that woman is spectacular. Between me making the call from the roadside and her appearing with warm drinks and biscuits was probably half an hour. In this time she'd got the girls dressed and dropped off at a good friends. And not once since has she been critical of me, preferring to express her gratitude that I walked away unscathed. I do not deserve her. I don't think I ever did.