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2003-11-10 - 11:39 a.m.
I wrecked my car on Saturday night. Luckily no one was hurt. Ok, well, my neck and back hurt like hell but I'm not dead and I didn't go to the hospital.
All sorts of people stopped to help and stood, in the rain and the dark, in the middle of 280 and directed the screeching, sliding cars around my poor, crunched Jetta.
In my panic I had immediately dialed 911 but wasn't coherent enough to tell what had happened. I held onto the phone with the Emergency Services operator talking as someone came to wrench my door open. I told him repeatedly that I'd called 911 and he just nodded and then called with his own phone.
A woman with a Winnie-the-Pooh umbrella stood in front of my car and risked her own life so that no one else would get hurt. A man with a cell phone squeezed my hand and called the cops. An off-duty nurse pulled over and told me not to move and I tried to be calm as I waited for what seemed like an eternity the ambulance.
I left a hysterical message for Adam and tried not to call my mom because I didn't know if I would be taken to the hospital or the towing company or the police station and I didn't want to scare her.
The CHP came and closed all four lanes of traffic. A police officer took my driver's license and a fireman took my registration and proof of insurance and in the chaos of the rain and dark and traffic both were inexplicably lost.
Now I have no car, no driver's license, no registration and no proof of insurance. And the DMV is closed today and tomorrow. So I'm feeling sorry for myself.
At night I dream over and over about spinning and spinning and crashing and crashing and watching the headlights of hundreds of cars come straight at me through a liquid screen of raindrops.
Fuck, I was only one exit away.