Carry On

Oh dear.

I am a little rattled.

This morning I crashed my car, oh that is a little dramatic, I smushed it. On the side of another car. Backing out of my driveway. No damage to my car, obviously no one hurt since I was going about two miles an hour. I have to admit that my first instinct was to haul ass out of there and admit nothing.

Instead I left a note and then obsessed all day about just leaving a note. I know that is what you are supposed to do and yet it didn't feel right. In fact, when I was waiting for the bus a police cruiser pulled in and for a brief moment I had a little panic attack. Because yes, the police who do not always respond to 911 calls in moments have time to come and pick up a woman who fled the scene of an accident and left a note instead of leaving an ounce of blood and her wedding ring as a token of her intent to pay.

Me thinks that I didn't escape without that drama gene that makes me roll my eyes at my mother.

I kept calling J (who was off work today) to make him see if my note was still there. It wasn't. He took this as a sign that they got it, I took it as a sign that the note blew off the windshield and I begged him to put another one on the windshield. He wouldn't. BASTARD.

Seriously, don't all rush off to try to find my real name on the internet so you can try to romance me away from him.

I think he was enjoying this, despite that I am sure it will wreck our insurance, because it confirms in his mind that I am a bad driver. I used to be certain that I wasn't but five years of him telling me how horrible I am and ridiculous have sort of made me internalize it a bit.

Heh. Did I just make this accident his fault? AWESOME.

Less awesome is the blood clot that fell out of my vagina yesterday (was that a startling segue?). Since it was not accompanied by my period but was with some stabbing pains very much unlike cramps I had to call the doctor today.

The nurse was so sweet and reassuring and OH I AM SURE IT IS NOTHING LET ME DOUBLE CHECK WITH THE DOCTOR.

And then BAM. An urgent phone call back and you must come in first thing tomorrow do not pass go and if there are more clots than go to urgent care.

DAMN IT.

Even though I am quite sure it is all very hyper-precautionary I am dreading it. Am guessing that she is not going to say, "Oh, well was the clot star shaped and the size of a nickel because those are GOOD LUCK!"

On a vainer and more ridiculous note I also just shaved my pubic hair which I try never to do before going to the doctor because even though I know many women do it and she isn't really the type to judge and golly how unprofessional would it be for her to be checking out my pubic hair anyway I still am slightly worried that she is going to be all, "look at that girl, shaving her pussy and propagating unreasonable sexual expectations to her husband and whomever else she whores around with, does she not understand the third wave of feminism at ALL?"

Which I do, and I am pretty sure that the third wave doesn't really approve of bald cooters in general but would certainly support my right to CHOOSE THE BALD COOTER.

Even if I think the third wave is totally offended that I took my husband's last name.

Anyway, there is no way it is all going to grow back before tomorrow morning so excuse me while I obsess about pubic hair grooming and blood clots and WHY HAS THAT GUY STILL NOT PICKED UP THE NOTE ABOUT THE DAMN CAR.

But everything is fine. Carry On.