1 post from March 2007

I got into my first accident today.

It wasn't a huge accident by any means. I took my eyes off the road for one moment to retrieve a stew bowl (covered only by a thin layer of aluminum foil) and hit a mailbox.

It was over in a minute. My mirror folded in, the glass popped out.

I pulled over down a side street, breathless and on the verge of tears. Stepped out of the car, Vanessa Mae still blaring her concerto popped the cracked mirror into its damaged holder.

I turned around and stopped at the mailbox. I only got paid Friday but used almost all of my pay on bills--I'm surviving off less than $100 until I get paid in another two Fridays. I was worried. I could barely afford to eat, let alone fix someone's mailbox. But nevertheless, I pulled into his driveway, stepped out, and greeted the owner, who was examining his damaged mailbox.

"I was the one who hit your mailbox," I said. "I pulled over down Marcia to pop my mirror back in and--I'll pay for your mailbox. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he reassures me. "I can fix it. Thank you for coming back."

"Are you sure. I live right down there," I gesture to the street. "And when I'm not at work, I'm parked out there. If you need anything, please let me know."

He shoos me off, telling me time and time again that he can fix it, and I head off to work to deliver food to a co-worker, still a little shaken.

When I return home, I check ebay for a replacement mirror. $20 to fix the mirror, including shipping.

I'll be eating ramen and leftover spaghetti for the next two weeks, but I don't mind.