Remember when I crashed my car about six weeks ago? A few unbelievable things have happened since then.
Firstly, the insurance's garage assured me that my old car was going to be written off, in the end (this was why I went ahead and bought a new one). They suddenly called me a couple of weeks ago to tell me that my car was in the process of being repaired.
What.
The day before yesterday saw the return of my old car 弟弟. I can't say I wasn't glad to see him again, but now I'm stuck with two cars. I re-transferred the insurance to my old car, since it has a personalised numberplate and air conditioning, and I'll have to try and sell on poor 妹妹, the new car. Again: what a faff. At least insurance waived the transfer cost because of all the trouble they and the garage caused me.
The second unbelievable thing happened today was I got a call from insurance saying that the lady I crashed into had decided to take out an injury claim.
WHAT.
I described her in my last post as 'absolutely lovely'. I might have to take that back. She and her son were fine! I talked to her for about half an hour In fact, when I took the cupcakes round the day after the crash, whilst I was already (genuinely) suffering from whiplash and concussion, they were both still fine when I was chatting to them- chipper, even. Now after over a month has passed she's claiming injury. My dad mentioned that the last time he was involved in a car crash that wasn't his fault, he got hounded by claim companies left right and centre, encouraging him to make a claim when he was fine. Dad stoutly refused. Apparently this lady got caught up by them.
A small, mean part of me kind of wishes that I hadn't made those cupcakes, now.
Showing posts with label bad timing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad timing. Show all posts
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Sunday, 26 May 2013
I Crashed My Car
In short.
This happened last Thursday- ten days ago- but I was waiting until I had the final outcome regarding my car before I wrote about it. Because I'm a bit of a completionist, apparently. However, since insurance is dragging its ridiculously bureaucratic heels about the whole process, I reckon I'd better get a head start.
Right at the end of my street is a cross junction that my family not so affectionately affectionately call 'The Gauntlet.' I almost always avoid it despite it being the quickest route home, knowing my little budget car to have the acceleration of a slug. For some reason- fate, God, sod's law, whatever you want to call it- on that Thursday, I decided to cross it.
Obviously, I failed.
It's a pretty nasty crossing that comes just before a sharp bend in the road, and consists of a main road running through two residential roads. There are several crashes per year on the crossroad, and they're almost all caused by the same thing: by somebody whizzing around the corner (which they are entitled to do since it's their right of way at this point), and colliding into somebody pulling out one of the residential roads too slowly. This is pretty much exactly what happened: I pulled out as fast as I could (like a slug), thinking it safe, and got very suddenly T-boned by a car coming around the corner.
It was such a loud, concussive BANG that I took a good few seconds for my brain to kick back into action: are the people in the other car alright? Am *I* alright? Are our cars alright? I turned to peer at the other lady driving and couldn't stop apologising, and we moved out cars out of the way. The lady who I crashed into- or rather, who I made crash into me- was absolutely lovely, and both herself and her son were unharmed. I was horrified that she had a child with her- he looked around ten or eleven years old. I could have never forgive myself if I'd gotten them both hurt. Thankfully though, they both were fine. Their car wasn't too bad off, either- one headlight a bit cracked, the bumper scraped and one of the screws of the number plate knocked out.
My car, however, had been turned into a very expensive boomerang on wheels. You get what you pay for, I suppose.
Long story short, we exchanged details, I contacted insurance and baked some apology cupcakes for the lady and her family (who only live a block away), and got poor 弟弟 ('didi'- I named my car 'little brother') taken away to car hospital/ car heaven.
The day after the crash I took the train to work. Come midday I was sent home because I could no longer move my head around from whiplash. I should have known: I was buffeted around quite a lot in the collision, and whenever I suddenly do a lot of exercise I only feel it halfway through the next day. So I spent the rest of Friday like a very sore robot. Saturday and Sunday I went to Birmingham to visit some friends from my uni days, making sure I was careful not to exert myself too much. By Sunday my neck was a lot better, but this also made me notice the constant headache I'd had since the crash, which I thought was just referred pain from whiplash and gritting my teeth too hard during the collision.
So on Monday I saw my doctor, and it turns out I had something called 'post traumatic concussion', which is basically a bruised brain from being bashed about in the skull, not necessarily after a physical impact to the head. Crazy stuff, huh? Anyway, I'd been trying to function like a human being for four days with whiplash and a battered brain without really realising.
I'm still awaiting to hear whether 弟弟 is in hospital or heaven. The car's actual internal structure was damaged, the central door pillar being knocked inwards. However, insurance is having me jump through quite a few hoops before even declaring it a write-off. So jump through hoops I shall. In the meantime I have had to empty my account to buy a new car (I should have gotten a courtesy car being fully comp, but there was a small series of c*ckups on insurance's end), and wait until I either get paid out for a written-off car, or get my old car back all fixed up and then try to sell it. What a faff.
I was more annoyed at myself more than anything, once the relief that no-one was hurt had passed. I never thought that my first car incident would be my fault. I've been on the road for eight years and always worried about the arsehat driving too close behind me, or the idiot trying to overtake me on the left, or the parked driver suddenly flinging their door open just as I'm driving past. I never thought I'd make such a stupid mistake. Serves me right for getting cocky; from now on I'll remember to worry about myself, too. On the bright side, my new car may be the same model as the old one, but it has shinier paintwork, is a newer reg number and for some reason drives a lot better in general than 弟弟. I have named her 妹妹 ('meimei'- little sister).
This happened last Thursday- ten days ago- but I was waiting until I had the final outcome regarding my car before I wrote about it. Because I'm a bit of a completionist, apparently. However, since insurance is dragging its ridiculously bureaucratic heels about the whole process, I reckon I'd better get a head start.
Right at the end of my street is a cross junction that my family not so affectionately affectionately call 'The Gauntlet.' I almost always avoid it despite it being the quickest route home, knowing my little budget car to have the acceleration of a slug. For some reason- fate, God, sod's law, whatever you want to call it- on that Thursday, I decided to cross it.
Obviously, I failed.
It's a pretty nasty crossing that comes just before a sharp bend in the road, and consists of a main road running through two residential roads. There are several crashes per year on the crossroad, and they're almost all caused by the same thing: by somebody whizzing around the corner (which they are entitled to do since it's their right of way at this point), and colliding into somebody pulling out one of the residential roads too slowly. This is pretty much exactly what happened: I pulled out as fast as I could (like a slug), thinking it safe, and got very suddenly T-boned by a car coming around the corner.
It was such a loud, concussive BANG that I took a good few seconds for my brain to kick back into action: are the people in the other car alright? Am *I* alright? Are our cars alright? I turned to peer at the other lady driving and couldn't stop apologising, and we moved out cars out of the way. The lady who I crashed into- or rather, who I made crash into me- was absolutely lovely, and both herself and her son were unharmed. I was horrified that she had a child with her- he looked around ten or eleven years old. I could have never forgive myself if I'd gotten them both hurt. Thankfully though, they both were fine. Their car wasn't too bad off, either- one headlight a bit cracked, the bumper scraped and one of the screws of the number plate knocked out.
My car, however, had been turned into a very expensive boomerang on wheels. You get what you pay for, I suppose.
Long story short, we exchanged details, I contacted insurance and baked some apology cupcakes for the lady and her family (who only live a block away), and got poor 弟弟 ('didi'- I named my car 'little brother') taken away to car hospital/ car heaven.
The day after the crash I took the train to work. Come midday I was sent home because I could no longer move my head around from whiplash. I should have known: I was buffeted around quite a lot in the collision, and whenever I suddenly do a lot of exercise I only feel it halfway through the next day. So I spent the rest of Friday like a very sore robot. Saturday and Sunday I went to Birmingham to visit some friends from my uni days, making sure I was careful not to exert myself too much. By Sunday my neck was a lot better, but this also made me notice the constant headache I'd had since the crash, which I thought was just referred pain from whiplash and gritting my teeth too hard during the collision.
So on Monday I saw my doctor, and it turns out I had something called 'post traumatic concussion', which is basically a bruised brain from being bashed about in the skull, not necessarily after a physical impact to the head. Crazy stuff, huh? Anyway, I'd been trying to function like a human being for four days with whiplash and a battered brain without really realising.
I'm still awaiting to hear whether 弟弟 is in hospital or heaven. The car's actual internal structure was damaged, the central door pillar being knocked inwards. However, insurance is having me jump through quite a few hoops before even declaring it a write-off. So jump through hoops I shall. In the meantime I have had to empty my account to buy a new car (I should have gotten a courtesy car being fully comp, but there was a small series of c*ckups on insurance's end), and wait until I either get paid out for a written-off car, or get my old car back all fixed up and then try to sell it. What a faff.
I was more annoyed at myself more than anything, once the relief that no-one was hurt had passed. I never thought that my first car incident would be my fault. I've been on the road for eight years and always worried about the arsehat driving too close behind me, or the idiot trying to overtake me on the left, or the parked driver suddenly flinging their door open just as I'm driving past. I never thought I'd make such a stupid mistake. Serves me right for getting cocky; from now on I'll remember to worry about myself, too. On the bright side, my new car may be the same model as the old one, but it has shinier paintwork, is a newer reg number and for some reason drives a lot better in general than 弟弟. I have named her 妹妹 ('meimei'- little sister).
Wednesday, 19 December 2012
Crouching Tasha, Hidden Panda
This is my hat.
Marvel at its panda-ness.
Last week I got to don it when we had a sudden cold snap. Everything froze overnight, and since it had been a bit damp the day before all the trees and plants appeared to turn into beautiful crystalline structure. When I parked in my office car park and got out I noticed that the weeds on the grassy bank behind my car had developed some fun-looking ice prickles, so I decided to snap them. I crouched down with my little compact camera into the foliage to attempt to get a clean, car-less shot.
After a while my legs fell asleep, so I had to get up really slowly to stop myself from falling over. Little did I know there had been someone curiously (and slightly nervously) waiting the other side of my car, probably having heard me scuffling about in the grass and wanting to make sure everything was alright. She stared at me, partially curious, partially a little bit scared, and possibly with a hint of pity. When I thought back about it later, I realised this is what she must have seen:
A pair of black bear ears, slowly rising from behind a car, followed by a pair of panda eyes, a panda nose, my eyebrows, and gradually the rest of my face and body, looking guilty (because it's my default expression) and poised with a camera, standing in the middle of the grassy bank.
I can't read minds, but her thoughts might have had something to do with spies, sneaks and weirdos.
Oh, and here are the photos I took, by the way. I'm not sure they were worth it.
~Fin~
Marvel at its panda-ness.
Last week I got to don it when we had a sudden cold snap. Everything froze overnight, and since it had been a bit damp the day before all the trees and plants appeared to turn into beautiful crystalline structure. When I parked in my office car park and got out I noticed that the weeds on the grassy bank behind my car had developed some fun-looking ice prickles, so I decided to snap them. I crouched down with my little compact camera into the foliage to attempt to get a clean, car-less shot.
After a while my legs fell asleep, so I had to get up really slowly to stop myself from falling over. Little did I know there had been someone curiously (and slightly nervously) waiting the other side of my car, probably having heard me scuffling about in the grass and wanting to make sure everything was alright. She stared at me, partially curious, partially a little bit scared, and possibly with a hint of pity. When I thought back about it later, I realised this is what she must have seen:
A pair of black bear ears, slowly rising from behind a car, followed by a pair of panda eyes, a panda nose, my eyebrows, and gradually the rest of my face and body, looking guilty (because it's my default expression) and poised with a camera, standing in the middle of the grassy bank.
I can't read minds, but her thoughts might have had something to do with spies, sneaks and weirdos.
Oh, and here are the photos I took, by the way. I'm not sure they were worth it.
~Fin~
Sunday, 30 September 2012
Short Stories: A Potentially Very Unattractive Death
Last night, I found out what happens when you take a laxative about twenty minutes before you realise you have food poisoning.
I'll let that set the scene without going into graphic detail, shall I?
I spent about an hour and a half in the bathroom, with a fierce fever and struggling to keep breathing, trying not to completely pass out, and being vaguely astounded that I still had a sense of humour (I was contemplating how typical it would be for me to go out like Elvis Presley, and how if it were up to me I'd have chosen a more dignified parting). Even after all that time in there and once I started to at very least not feel like I may be about to die, it took every last ounce of strength I had to sort myself out, force some water down to rehydrate myself and get into bed (of course even this couldn't happen normally- as my right leg had gone to sleep I had to stumble-hop the whole way- which is not a nice thing to have to do when you still feel sick to your stomach).
I can only put the whole incident down to very, very bad timing and quite bad luck. Thankfully I'm a lot better today, but my stomach is still making some very forbidding sounds.
I'll let that set the scene without going into graphic detail, shall I?
I spent about an hour and a half in the bathroom, with a fierce fever and struggling to keep breathing, trying not to completely pass out, and being vaguely astounded that I still had a sense of humour (I was contemplating how typical it would be for me to go out like Elvis Presley, and how if it were up to me I'd have chosen a more dignified parting). Even after all that time in there and once I started to at very least not feel like I may be about to die, it took every last ounce of strength I had to sort myself out, force some water down to rehydrate myself and get into bed (of course even this couldn't happen normally- as my right leg had gone to sleep I had to stumble-hop the whole way- which is not a nice thing to have to do when you still feel sick to your stomach).
I can only put the whole incident down to very, very bad timing and quite bad luck. Thankfully I'm a lot better today, but my stomach is still making some very forbidding sounds.
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