I was in my kitchen, washing a dish

Yeah, so, shitty night. Got myself into a car accident a couple of hours ago. The good news (or bad news depending on where you're coming from) is that I'm fine. The car came out of it decently well. Smashed up on one side, but drivable. And of course, I'm 'blogging about it first chance I get, because I'm a fucking loser.

I was on my way home, coming through an intersection when I got t-boned. All I remember was seeing the car coming at me, trying to swerve, the loud noise, spinning around, then nothing other than "Oh. Fuck."

Surprisingly, I got my shit together right away. Turned the car off, called 911. Then I get out of the car to go find and face the other driver.

Nothing. No car. No other driver. They took off.

So that's fucked up. I don't know if they'll be able to determine fault since there was only one witness (who reported at the scene, at least) who didn't see it but came out from his backyard after he heard us hit. Hopefully the car isn't too fucked up so that I can just pay out of pocket instead of filing an insurance claim. Just what I need, for my fucking insurance to go up.

Physically, I'm fine. I got up and out of the car right away. I might be a little sore tomorrow if one accident I got into several years ago is any indicator. But nothing serious, at least not physically.

Mentally, I of course feel shitty. If I just hadn't been a little dumbfuck and come home after work, this wouldn't have happened. If I had taken a different route home, had come home five minutes earlier, five minutes later... Yup, "what if." Always the worst thing. I know I can't do shit about it now, but you can never get rid of that nagging question.

In addition to worrying about all the money shit, this is just embarrassing. No matter what, if I just hadn't been a stupid shit and gone out running around, I wouldn't be in this position. Same shit as above; nothing I can do about it now. But I'm me, and I can't help but be pissed at myself, even over shit that I can't control. I'm dumb like that.

Then of course, my mind goes into paranoid delusional mode. Well, "goes into" is kind of a bad choice of words; that's where my mind always is. No matter what, the other driver is not going to be in good shape if they get caught. The police get kind of pissed when you leave the scene of an accident. Twelve-point ticket, equivalent to a DUI. Whoever that person is will probably be pissed. So now, I find myself thinking things like they're going to be pissed and track me down and kill me some day.

But hey! Suicide at Twenty-five. They've only got 22 days to track me down and make the kill before I do it myself.

Even if I'm dead, what if they need to go further for revenge? What if they go after my family? I know it's all irrational, but this is the kind of stupid shit that's always going through my head.

Fuck. It's nights like these that it would be really nice to have someone to come home to. You know, someone who, when I'm ranting and raving about what a fucking idiot I am, will tell me "Yeah, you are a fucking idiot. But I love 'ya anyway."

Then again, maybe I'm better off this way. It could easily go the other way, and instead of having some comfort I've instead got someone yelling at me regardless of whether or not it's my fault. You know, especially if she's not a "pushover mom" type. That last line would make more sense if I'd just finish posting crap about my Chicago trip, but we'll get to it eventually.

Whatever. It's all said and done now, nothing I can do to fix it or make it better. Just gotta see what the fallout is. Naturally, the most important thing is that I'm alive and uninjured. But of course, the night is young.