Sometimes you just can’t win. No matter how hard you try, it just doesn’t happen. I’ve been having a rough week. Too much to do, too little time. People who don’t seem to understand exactly what they should be doing, making work even harder for everyone else around them. Thursday, I had a rotten day. I was so frustrated when I went to sleep that I wanted to either punch someone or cry.
But I woke up Friday and was determined to have a good day. I didn’t care who I had to give a wedgie. I was going to be happy, damn it. It was a beautiful day, so my husband and I decided to ride our bikes to work. We were in the bike lane not even one-hundred yards from our complex’s driveway, and a car pulled out of the drive next door without looking and hit my husband while he was riding his bike. I saw the car coming and tried to shout to him, but by the time he looked, the car had already hit him. Luckily, the woman was only going about five miles an hour, so even though she pushed him into the lane for oncoming traffic, he stayed upright. The SUV hit his knee, and as I was trying to make sure he was all right and get him out of the way of oncoming cars, the evil witch who hit him stuck her head out the car window to say she was sorry.
My natural response was, “You hit him with your car!”
Evil lady responded, “Accidents happen.”
Husband said, “Yeah, but you hit me with your car!”
“But it was an accident,” said evil lady.
“Well, we need your insurance information since you hit him with your car!” Was all I could think to say. She still hadn’t gotten out of her car. She was still just sticking her head out the window.
Finally, while I picked up my bike from where I had dropped it and called my stage manager to tell him that we would be late since my husband had just gotten a little hit by a car.
The woman finally got out of her car with her insurance info, and she was pregnant. Hugely pregnant with her belly shoved into a Michael Jackson Cirque shirt. Well then, of course, my husband starts to feel sorry for the evil pregnant lady. Who’s only response to hitting someone with her car was to grudgingly give her insurance info and saying, “You know my husband is a cyclist.” I don’t pity that woman. I pity the baby who is about to be born into her stupidity and lack of personal accountability.
We got the info, walked our bikes home, since my husband’s front wheel is now too bent to ride, and drove the car to work. I didn’t give the evil pregnant woman a wedgie. Maybe if I had, I would feel more cheerful. Watching a car run into your husband really does spoil your day. But at least it doesn’t look like my husband will have any long term damage to his knee. And the bike was on its last leg anyway. I lost the having a good day game, but there is always tomorrow, and my husband didn’t die under evil lady’s car tires, so he’ll be there to try for a good day with me.