February 18th, 2010

damn stress!

If I have a singular skill, it’s that I am incapable of backing out of my driveway when I am: tired/stressed/ill/excited.

Time #1: Was mad at my mom, backed into her van—or rather, according to her, “floored it and landed on” her van. I think I was 17.

Time #2: Backed into the Chop’s car last year during the move. I had my car full of stuff and honestly did not see his car and didn’t even think about it possibly being there. I broke a light and crunched in his hood the tiniest bit.

Time #3: This morning I backed the right side of the car into the garage as I was pulling out. I ripped the glass out of my side view mirror (the casing is pretty busted too, but still hanging on!) and ripped some weather stripping and wood off the garage. I’m really busy and stressed and frankly exhausted lately, so yeah.

I think I need the kind of car that beeps or yells when it senses something behind me. But it’s gotta be really loud, and really, really sensitive… because even as I was hearing my mirror crunch, I didn’t stop backing up. Nice, right? I finished pulling out, putting a nice scrape on my bumper (the Liberty’s have a plastic-type bumper, so really I just buff it and it goes away, but still).

Then I cursed a blue streak. Not a great start to the day, lol.