I think I'm ready for one. All the thoughts in my head, it's like those vats for lotteries where all the different balls are bouncing around and off of one another. I swear sometimes I'm convinced that I'm losing it. But, I know I'm not, I'm just under a mountain of stress. Toby and I are separating. He's moving out April 1st, the irony and bittersweet humor of it being April fool's day is not lost on me. I don't want to say much more about this other than the obvious, it's an incredibly difficult time and decision but one that I hope will make everyone happier in the long run. So far the kids are taking it well but I think the whole concept is still abstract for them, once they're going back and forth between our homes things might be harder, but Toby and I are together on making the transition as smooth as possible for them. Toby and Owen went out to Ikea yesterday and he mentioned that Owen was wondering how we came to the decision to separate, specifically he wanted to know if we thumb-wrestled or did rock, paper, scissors in order to decide. It just makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time. That's all I'll be revealing of our separation, it's odd to write about it on this blog. I just felt like if I kept skirting around the issue it would become the proverbial elephant in the room (or blog in this virtual case).Friday morning was a foggy one, and I love foggy days. The lovely mystery about them, it makes me feel like I'm in a Sherlock Holmes novel. But running out the front door I noticed the plastic bag hanging in my nieghbor's tree and it just flattened my initially happy mood. Just another sign that I'd like to live where it's quieter and the trees are bag-free. I dropped the kids off at their respsective schools, went to Statistics and was driving back home to go over my Statistics homework. The fog had burned off,it was sunny and I was getting on to route 28 without any problem, which is rather remarkable given that it's a dodgy entrance to navigate, plus there's construction going on now which makes it that much worse. But I had my signal on, I got in the first lane, kept my signal on, checked my rearview mirror and looked out my window before getting into the left lane when two seconds later I feel my car grinding against something and bounced back into the right lane. Oh no. It was another car. There is no shoulder on the road for, well there's no shoulder at all on our side, just bridges, three of them. The other driver pull across traffic to a dirt shoulder on the far side of the road. I've put my left signal on and am trying to cross the three lanes of traffic in spite of the clearly posted 'no turns' sign in front of me. My heart is in my throat to begin with when I see the lady get out of her car and immediately start dropping the f-bomb while looking over at me. At this point, for a split second, I'm thinking 'do I really have to go over there?' But of course I do, she's looking like she's about to cry while gesturing with her hands to the streak marks along her black Range Rover's door. Oh God, I'm not a hit and run person, I'm not a deserter. Soo I make my way over to the dirt shoulder and am routing through my glove compartment for my insurance information which I'm having trouble doing because my hands are shaking, this lady is pissed and I'm trying to call my insurance company at the same time because I'm thinking that's what I'm supposed to do right? She walks over to my car and I lower the window and she's chomping at me 'I hope that you're calling the cops to let them know that you almost killed me!' I just lose my breath at that, I thought it was bad enough her saying effing this and that while I was still on the road. 'no' I manage, take a deep breath, then 'Honestly, I don't think it was my fault. I had my signal on.' 'You drove right into my lane! You're being difficult. I'm calling the cops!' and she storms off to leave me sitting there stunned while someone from roadside assistance comes on the phone to inform me that I don't want to speak to them but rather the claims department. I hang up and I'm just sort of blown away, in this fugue state where I'm thinking 'why is this lady so mad at me?' it was an accident. What did I do wrong? I had my signal on, I looked out my window to make sure no one was behind me. Either she was in my blind spot or she was driving too fast, probably both, because that part of route 28 is where you're supposed to drive 35 mph but most people drive 55. She struts back over to get my insurance information and I write down all her information in a script that will be hard to decipher later, but I'm in panic mode. She tells me that she's leaving and I ask 'But aren't the cops coming?' 'Look at my nice car.' she says 'I have a job. I can't wait.' this whole interaction is getting more and more confusing to me. Is she trying to be snobby and insinuate I'm some deadbeat without a job? I'm driving a Ford Freestyle, not a Range Rover, but it is a year newer than her car, and even if I was driving a '78 El Camino what is the point in saying something like that. 'Listen' I say, 'I'm sorry. I honestly did not see you. I looked out my window.' She just mutters something and goes back to her car. I call 911 because I'm thinking surely I'm supposed to report this to the cops right? And a man comes on brusque and businesslike, '911 what's your location?' and I start telling him about the accident in this incredibly high, halting, tearful voice and then I can't stop crying. To his credit, he became a lot friendlier once he heard me bawling and I'm like 'I just don't understand why she's so mad at me. She's saying I tried to kill her and I honestly didn't see her.' He soothes me into a lull saying accidents happen, people have blind spots, there's no reason to be nasty, don't worry about it. He can send a cop out to write up report but in the state of Pennsylvania it's no fault so the best thing to do is file a claim with my insurance company. He can hear that I'm still upset though. 'Do you want me to send a cop out?' 'nono, it's okay.' I squeak 'thank you.'
I take a deep breath and drive back home through the city, I don't want to be on route 28 right now. I finally get back home and get out of my car to check the damage for the first time. There's a bit of a dent in Owen's door, some scrapes along the door and wheel well and the plastic 'elbow' joint to my side view mirror is gone, but considering, things could have been a lot worse. It makes me remember the car accident I was in my senior year of high school, twenty two years ago, when things were a lot worse. I call the insurance company and start crying again, I really don't handle myself well for a forty year old, saying again how angry and mean the lady was. They record my account of what happened. The man tells me that investigators from both insurance companies will determine who's at fault. 'But I thought Pennsylvania was no fault, that's what the cop told me?' Apparently it is from a medical standpoint but not from a who caused the accident standpoint, so I start feeling bad all over again. How do they figure it out when it's a she said versus she said story? They're going to think it was my fault. I have to pay a $500 deductible and our insurance is going to go up because of me and how are we going to manage, already stretched tight due to this separation. Toby's the first one I called after I hung up. He's always the first person I think to go to, and he said not to worry about the money, that he was just glad I was alright. I am alright, shaken up, teary, but I think I'll be okay.
