...

I am so fsking stupid.

First time driving my dad's van. Second time out on the road. I didn't turn nearly hard enough, went way the fsk over the yellow line, hit another car pretty much head on. It wasn't much of an accident -- little damage to either car -- but his airbag went off and I'm told that's five hundred dollars right there. It was entirely my fault, of course, don't exactly need a court to tell you that. And of course there couldn't be a worse time for this cause my dad's insurance is gonna go up and he's already having trouble covering the bills. I'm gonna pay the damage (there go my hopes of stretching my savings for a laptop and a car) which'll be at least a quarter of all the money I have, and @$%^%T#$^%$Y%$@#$#@ I'm so #$%#$% stupid and I really hate myself right about now. Ohhhhhhhhhhh...

%#$@^&!

If I'd been going just a bit slower -- I let myself get fazed by the driver behind me. I let myself get overconfident from driver's ed where the instructor has a brake and no reservations about leaning over and grabbing the wheel. If I'd remembered to turn the wheel around at least one whole spin. Maybe if I'd even just left quicker then the timing wouldn't have happened this way. If for once I'd slammed on the brake -- I've been trying to get over doing that, trying to be more gentle, and the one fsking time I should have gone for it I didn't. I hate myself.

Five hundred dollars, that's nearly a nice laptop. It's four months working at the library, with weekends, or it's almost half of what I earned at school this summer. It's at least two decent guitars. It's a month or two's electric bills, I think. It's six Defenders of the Nifty subscriptions with original art. It's a trip to California. It's seventy paperbacks, thirty CDs, ten new video games. It's a third of an early-nineties automatic -- though I kinda don't want anything to do with cars for a while I think. Why did I get behind that wheel again?

Sheesh, here I go with the crying again. I should really get over myself huh.

wrong place wrong time?

If I'd just worn different fsking shoes -- maybe then we'd've been out of the parking lot faster (cause I wouldn't have stopped to debate taking the slides I was wearing off to drive), wouldn't have been in front of the impatient guy who beeped at me, wouldn't have sped up a bit, wouldn't have been at the intersection at the same time as the other car.

Jeez.

It happened, I should just live with it, stop spazzing and wishing I'd wake up. Right? Easier said, of course, but still. Bleh.

...

So, all you folks who say you live without regret, how the fsk do you do it?