actually doing just fine

Somebody hit my car the other day. I saw this guy getting in his car, and I pulled in behind him (in the 30 minute spot) and waited for him to leave. And waited so long that I figured he couldn't possibly be any longer. And waited so long after that I just couldn't give up at that point. And waited a little longer.

I finally decided to chance the ticket and closed my door and had my hand on the car to reach around and open the back door for the dog and he hit me. I saw the dog lurch; I felt it under my hand. I kinda couldn't believe it. Obnoxious guy in a gold SUV who takes a million years to leave because he's arranging his home office in the passenger seat and he slams into my car on the way out of (by the way) an enormous parking space.

I yelled and threw my hands up in disgust and moved the car and checked the bumper and got the dog and all my belongings out and headed for the coffee shop. The guy apparently saw me flailing and came around the block and stopped me to see what happened. Well, I explained, you mean when you slammed into my car? Apologies and radios and is it ok, and are you ok, and sure fine whatever, just, you know, watch it. Nice calm lecture. I didn't even get mad. Mostly flabbergasted.

And it was today sitting across from a new teacher letting her in on secrets when I realized, oh yeah I was going to call a shrink, huh?