I kind of got tired of blogging about fitness because nothing has changed. I’m still running. I’m still doing the p90x. This morning I stepped on the scale and was almost shocked that I was back to my summer 2009 weight (that was the year that I was super into racing and followed p90x + the diet). Since I’ve started working again, I feel like I’m constantly wanting to graze on stuff. I’m fully expected the “cubicle spread” (where my ass spreads from all the weight gain). I guess breastfeeding really does burn calories.
So I’m officially perpetuating a stereotype. I wish it was a good Asian stereotype like I’m really good at math or something. Unfortunately, I am a bad driver. I never considered myself a bad driver even though Jeremy hardly ever lets me drive because he is afraid of my driving. I’ve just considered myself to be a bit aggressive on the road.
While I still don’t think I was at fault for the November accident (and I think it may have been considered “no fault” but I’m not 100% sure on that), the accident this past week was 100% my fault.
My daycare lady called me at work and asked if I could pick up Annmarie 30 minutes early because she had a family issue. It wasn’t a problem for me to leave a little early but for some reason, I felt very rushed and panicked when I left the office. Traffic was abnormally heavy for 3:40ish in the downtown area of Baltimore and I was really annoyed.
I had turned left onto a street with the intent of getting in the outer-most left turn lane. As I was pulling onto the street, a “we pick up your junk” type truck pulled in front of me. While he didn’t cut me off or anything, he did cause me to stop in the middle of an intersection. I sat there for about a minute and then worried that I’d be that a-hole blocking traffic.
I looked to my left to make sure that a car wasn’t approaching and tried to pull into the inner left turn lane. And just as I thought I had cleared the junk truck, I heard (and felt) a bump.
I thought that I may have scratched my car (not the end of the world) and KEPT ON DRIVING. All I could think was that I was late in picking up Annie.
It is difficult to see in this picture (I took it with my phone in an underground parking garage) but on top of the world’s deepest scratch across my rear passenger door and side panel, there is a HOLE in my car (where the arrow is pointing).
When Jeremy got home, I told him what happened and of my driving away and I’m pretty sure he almost shit himself. He yelled something about how I committed a crime and freaked out. And then I freaked out because I thought that I was a fugitive.
I tracked down the junk truck company’s number and left them a message with my contact info. They never called me back. I also called my friend that is a Baltimore City police officer to ask if I should file a report. He laughed and said no. He told me that it was reasonable that I kept driving if I thought the damage was minor (like just a scratch) and he even checked their system to see if a report had been filed against me (there wasn’t).
Jeremy made me call our insurance company to file a claim. The adjuster came out this morning and estimated it was about $1400 worth of damage (and that is NOTHING compared to my almost $8k worth of damage in November).
I’m sort of freaking out about my insurance rates though. My rates didn’t go up after the November accident but they will surely go up now, right? The adjuster read through the report he received and told me that it was considered a “hit and run”. SON OF A BITCH! That doesn’t bode well for me, does it? And even though the junk truck company never called me, I left their info with my insurance company so I’m worried that the junk truck people will try to claim that I damaged the truck or the driver of the truck. UGH.
Lately I’ve been thinking about all of these crazy scenarios with Annmarie. The one that really gets me is driving through a tunnel (I drive through one just about daily) and having it collapse under the weight of the water. I picture how quickly I could pull Annmarie out of the carseat and how I could effeciently run with her through the tunnel to safety. I then start to have these horrific images of us being trapped as the water rises and us both drowning. AWFUL. And wasn’t there a movie about people being trapped in a tunnel?
I also have this terrible fear of someone trying to carjack my car with Annmarie still in it. Would they just throw the carseat in the middle of nowhere with my sweet baby inside? Would they hurt her? I know I’d fight like hell to keep my baby with me but I now get really worried anytime someone gets too close to my car while I’m in it.
Then there is the ‘autopilot’ worry… the worry that I’ll somehow forget that I have Annmarie with me and leave her in a burning hot car all day. Or I’ll leave her somewhere else just because I’ve forgotten. I’ve already forgotten to buckle her into her carseat because I had unbuckled her to do something and then just forgot to re-buckle her.
I now worry about Jeremy incessantly. He goes to school in a not great neighborhood and I worry about him getting mugged or murdered.
My newest worry (and here is where I start to sound really really crazy) – rapture. I am not religious and while I don’t really believe in rapture, a part of me wonders what if it is true. I’m not making it to heaven. Will I watch as my baby floats away from me?
Yes, I’m crazy. I’m also clearly afraid of death and being separated from my child. I’m not sure how Jeremy is going to handle me insisting that we spend EVERY SECOND together on Saturday… you know… just to be sure. I don’t want to go to the bathroom to pee and return to my living room only to find that my family has floated away.
Do you have crazy fears? (btw – these fears are really just a small sliver of some of my super nutty fears most of which all involve dying.)