Crunched.

Two days ago, I misjudged the space I had between a trailer and a fence and wound up crunching the right side of my car into the fence. The fence didn't break like I had expected it to (a blessing I'm still counting, among other things about this minor, non-fatal accident), but my sliding door caved right in. Now, the damage itself is pretty much superficial (another thank God moment). Everything works, even the automatic locks; however, I really shouldn't put off getting it fixed simply because I think, "I can deal with it."

So, for the first time in my life I filed an insurance claim. Since the policy belongs to my parents, I called them and told them that it was going to happen. My dad's reaction was as I had expected it to be: Jovial, but cutting. I didn't need to be told that it was a mint condition car or to be treated like I ran into things every day. I hate knowing that even if I beat myself up over this stupid mistake that it won't end there— Good ol' dad's always there to make sure I feel miserable about it!

Anyway, the total damage to my wallet per the estimate of the place I want my car fixed at comes out to $2,145.80. That's a huge chunk from me, so I'm hoping that the insurance is full coverage and that, at most, I'll have a $500.00 deductible to pay. I can do that. I can swing that. I just pray that that's what I'll have to do and swing. On the other hand, I'll also have to figure out what to do about transportation. As it is, I'm planning on using W.'s car and making the best I can of the situation. It shouldn't be so bad. My biggest concern, though, is if the car will be ready in time for my move to Florida.

I sure hope it is. God, please let it all just turn out all right. Okay?