Why I Must Pay Better Attention

I suppose the only proper way to begin this post is to admit that I ran my car into the wall in the parking garage this morning. 

 

Now before you go off thinking worst case scenario...

 

When I was coming in on 75, I noted that people were being a bit more reckless than usual.  I, too, began to drive in such a way--I figured it was safer than getting sideswiped by some crazed lane-changer.

 

About a mile from my exit, traffic began to slow.  Not moments before, some SUV had rear ended a car and I guess people were slowing down to check out the damage.  (They'd pulled to the side of the road, fortunately.)

 

I drove by safely, quite glad that I hadn't gotten into a fender-bender on MY way to work!

 

Soon I was descending (and squealing my tires) into the parking garage.  I was on the lookout for a good spot as I don't particularly care for parking 5 minutes away from the elevators.  Luckily, I found the perfect spot just a few spaces away from them.

 

Elated, as usual, I whipped into the parking spot.

 

On my right was a large, creamy yellow, old-timey Land Rover.  It was very ugly.  Instead of properly looking where I was going as I parked my car, I looked at the ugly Land Rover.  I considered what it would have been like had that Land Rover caused the accident on the freeway this morning. 

 

And that's when it happened.

 

THUMP.

 

I was rocked back into the present when my car ran into the wall of the parking garage.  It's a solid concrete wall.  (My airbag did not deploy, which was quite a relief.)

 

I glared at the Land Rover, the cause of my problems, and tried to figure out what to do next. 

 

The first course of action was to frantically look around and make sure no one saw me run into the garage wall.  No one had--good.

 

My second course of action was to back up the car so that no one could tell what I'd done.  (Particularly the owner of the Land Rover.)

 

Then I tried to get out.

 

I had parked too close to the 2 foot wide concrete post and could only open the car door about 5 inches.  Not wishing to risk another bump into the wall, I decided to try to squeeze.

 

It was a tight, tight squeeze.  I thought I was going to get stuck permanently and have to call Joey to come and bring me food and water.

 

Somehow I made it out (not sure how I'm going to get back IN the car when it's time to leave...I might climb through the passenger's side) and determined that it was probably not a good idea to try to survey any potential damage done to the front of the car.

 

I might get stuck and never get out.

 

And I was getting later by the minute.  So I tossed my semi-stacked, mousey brown, undyed bob, got out my cell phone to call Joey and tell him what I'd done before he had to read about it on my blog, and headed in for the morning.