When I was about 17, I ran my car into the side of the garage. I made it worse by cranking my wheel, and grinding the car further into the side of the garage.
When I was about 19, I t-boned a lady who was driving down the road with her turn signal on. Stupidly, I thought she was going to turn.
Two weeks later, someone rear-ended me in my mom's car. With a snowplow on a truck. In August.
Nothing really else, unless I'm forgetting an accident, which is entirely possible.
Until this morning.
I forgot to make sure the garage door was fully up before attempting to back out of the garage. Oops! It wasn't. I shattered the back windshield, ripped molding off the garage door, and now the garage door opener is hanging by a bolt.
What a way to begin 2 13-hour-days in a row.
Hey, it could be much worse. Right? That's what I'll keep telling myself.