My life is like a car wreck. A really, really bad 50 car pileup on the freeway. You don’t want to watch, and yet you just can’t help yourself.
The “investigator” for the truck dude’s insurance called me today. Wanted to get a statement from me about what happened. He wanted to meet in person, but I don’t think there’s enough valium left in my prescription bottle to prevent that particular panic attack (You know, me and the whole confrontation thing. Not a big fan of it.) So we did it on the phone.
It was pleasant enough, until I remembered my question. “So, when will the insurance be picking up our rental car fee? Because my insurance coverage on it is going to run out on Tuesday and we don’t have a new car yet.” That’s when the oh-so-“I-sound friendly-but-really-I’m-going-to-screw-you-in-any-way-possible” voice kicked in to let me know that they had a witness that says the truck didn’t change lanes too soon and that they wouldn’t be accepting liability. And I really need to get a new car, m’am, and why didn’t I have one by now?
Um, well, Mr. Asshat, I wasn’t just going to go out and get myself a brand new car without waiting for you to ruin my day first, that’s why! This very thing is the reason we didn’t go out and rent a car the last time we got hit and didn’t have the at-fault party’s insurance’s information!!!!!!! Because now we’ve paid $400+ that we don’t really have for a rental car and at this point are not getting back!
I’m so angry, all I can think of is swear words. Bad, very bad, very unladylike swear word names to call the person that hit me and his insurance people. I keep trying to pray so that I won’t feel like this but I can only take so much getting screwed over before I snap and can’t humble myself to pray. And then I get confused because I have this depression/anxiety/bi-polar whatever and I take this medication for it and it works fantastic unless I get really upset like this and then I feel like the medication doesn’t exist. And Shana the Beautiful was consoling me earlier and said that it’s normal. That just because I’m on medication for bad feelings doesn’t mean they will go away completely.
:::More dead silence:::
What? What do you mean???
:::Thinking for a minute:::
Ok. I guess I can grasp that concept, but can somebody please tell me why “normal” bad feelings feel the same as the “excessive and uncontrollable to the point of needing medication” ones?