Cross-post: Can I get an Amen?

I don't usually cross-post - what goes on over at my other place usually stays there.  Not because it's like Vegas mind you.  It's because it's the antithesis of excitement - people think Reverend Moore is an editor.  But, I thought this could/should be a post to be shared with a greater audience - and by greater, I don't mean better - I know some of you - by greater I just mean larger.So, here goes:

On Monday, I had every intention to post about some very good news I had to share.  I got a new job.  Not only did I get a new job, but I got a raise and this new position would cut my commute to just 25 minutes one-way - down from the hour and ten/fifteen I have been doing these last 3+ years.  I will continue to do relatively the same thing - fundraising and public relations - and for an organization that provides services to a similar population - mentally retarded/developmentally disabled adolescents and adults.  It is very exciting for me/us and I was really looking forward to writing about it and letting the six of you who read regularly know about it.

Well, that was the plan for Monday anyway.  Amazing how things do not always go according to plan, isn't it?  I seem to recall something about mice and men and the best laid, blah, blah, blah. Don't worry, I still have the job and will start after our upcoming trip to the House of Mouse (with my parents by the way - should be something to post about after that).  The thing is, I never made it into work on Monday.  Nope, not at all.  In fact, I'm actually very lucky to be even posting about Monday.  See, I totaled my car.  And before you ask, no I wasn't wearing a seatbelt.  Stupid?  Oh, Lord yes.  Dumbest damn thing I have ever done.  Actually, I had become a convert after Little Dub was born.  This was a very stupid instance that could have cost me my life.  I have seen the error of my ways.  I have had my "come to Jesus" moment.  You will soon see me at your door trying to dispense tracts from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.  "May I come in and tell you about the saving power of the seatbelt law?  How about the redemptive power of the 3-point shoulder harness?"  Yes, I am born again.

I was ten minutes from work when I hit an extensive (150-200 yards) patch of black ice.  Never even saw it.  Didn't realize I was on it until my ass-end suddenly started to swing around and I was now facing in the opposite direction.  And still spinning.  The next thing I know, I'm covered in glass, the windshield is smashed and the car is laying on the driver's side in a ditch.  I remember saying, "Fuck" once or twice, grabbing my wallet off the floor and turning off the radio because the static was going to drive me insane and I needed to think.

I tried to push open the passenger side door, but to no avail.  This was about the time panic decided to rear its ugly head.  Thankfully, a nearby resident had heard everything and was now outside my car on his house phone calling 911.  I ignored him when he told me to stay put - panic still had hold.  I was able to roll down the passenger side window and boost my self out of the car.  I heard him say, "Are you okay?  Anything hurt?  You're damn lucky!  You're the third accident in a week."  Huh?  Great, I'm the topper in a hat trick.  Lucky me.  Where's Rod Roddy with my gifts?

Another passerby encourages me to get to the other side of the road and off into someone's yard as I am busy inspecting myself.  My right hand is bloodied, I have glass and glass fragments in my hair, my left ear is tender and I have a dull pain between my shoulder blades, but am otherwise unscathed.  Remarkably so.  I hear the sirens from the local fire department, the paramedics and the sheriff.  I'm hustled into a pick-up truck, then to a fire truck and ultimately into the paramedic's truck.  They look at me.  They look at my CR-V.  They look back at me incredulously.  "Are you sure you're okay?" I am asked repeatedly.  Yep, I answer.  "Just a little pain here and apparently I have a cut somewhere."  In between all this poking and prodding, I have left messages for Mrs. Big Dubya - somewhat frantic ones where I actually forgot to tell her I was okay and the kids were not with me.  Ah, panic and shock - wonderful combination when relaying information.

I was in and out of the hospital after getting looked at and receiving 600 mg of Motrin - nothing broken, no internal bleeding, no concussion, just some scratches, some tenderness and some disapproving comments when I give my answer about the seatbelt.  My CR-V?  Not so lucky.  She has been declared a total loss.  I have since removed the plates and registration, cleaned it out and bid her a fond farewell as she will be taken away on Monday to points unknown.  I am sad to see her go. But I am more than grateful to be able to write this post and that is all that really matters - I am still here for Mrs. Big Dubya and my children - I could not ask for more.  Fortunately, only a few family members read this blog so I won't be answering a ton of questions - we've just bought a new car, no big deal, it was expected with a third bambino on the way, etc. , etc., etc.  To Aunt P: Everything's fine - I am fine - let's keep it at that.

In the immortal words of Sir Bob: "I don't like Mondays."