… to describe how I’m feeling at the moment.
On Thursday, I left the farm and drove back to the house, leaving the dogs with an assortment of chews to entertain themselves while B and I walked into Cardiff, where we met up with Jennie and her boys for a few hours of meandering round the shops, drinking coffee, eating cake and generally enjoying ourselves.
I upgraded my phone, got a better contract, bought a book on vegetable gardening with a book token I was given at Christmas, bought B’s borthday present, and treated myself to some new games and some accessories for my Nintendo DS. All in all, it was a lovely day and I was mentally writing a blog post on the subject when B and I arrived back at the house.
Only to discover that someone had driven into the back of my car!
Apparently some idiot was speeding down the street and overtook a van. He claims that some kids ran out in front of him so he braked and swerved, crashing into one car that was parked behind mine. I assume he then span round and careered into the back of mine.
It’s a 4×4 so is higher than your average car and I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean when I say the back door has been pushed in (my insurance company struggled to grasp what I meant and kept talking about the “boot” – but more on them later) and the window exploded everywhere. The vehicle also moved forward about a car’s length, maybe more, which is quite amazing considering how damn good that handbrake is.
The police were called, statements were taken, and everything was cleared up by the time we got home.
What a lovely surprise that was!
I’ll have to do another post about my insurance company and how utterly useless they are as I don’t want to think about such things at this hour of the morning.
Let’s just say that come renewal day, I’m switching, even if I have to pay more elsewhere.
As for the car, it looked quite positive as there didn’t seem to be much damage, but the garage rang me last night to say that the floor has also been damage and is buckled and the estimate for repairs is three thousand pounds…!
So, I may or may not get the car back, depending on whether the insurance company decide that the cost of repairing the vehicle is less than they’ll have to pay me if it’s written off.
I know I shouldn’t, but I keep mulling over the What Ifs.
What If … I’d looked up at the blue sky on Thursday morning and rung B and Jennie to cancel, opting to enjoy the sunny country outdoors instead?
What If … I’d parked somewhere else? A taxi was parked outside my front door. I’d I’d parked in front of him instead of behind the other car, mine would have been fine.
What If … What If … What If …
It really doesn’t help.
I’ve got the driver’s phone number. Boy, am I having to resist ringing him up with every moral fibre in my being.