A little excitment in which I ruin my poor first car

           I'm sorry I haven't been posting regularly. School and work have me hopping around like crazy. And I'm trying to keep up with writing, guitar, and clogging. So I've slacked on posting in order to get some sleep, even though I haven't been getting much of that.

          Which hasn't proven to be a good thing. Monday after class, my friend and I went to an auto shop to renew the inspection on my car. I dropped her off at work and headed home.

           I fell asleep for a second. I must have. Because I opened my eyes and the car had veered off the road. I over corrected. It jerked into the other lane and lost traction. People had told me what your supposed to do if that happens, but I couldn't remember what it was. I over corrected again. I wasn't going to get control of it.

           My car flipped. It was loud. Everything spun in a blur. All I could think was what pastor had said that Jesus' name only can save. I screamed for Him. And then I couldn't stop. "Jesus!" It was all I could say over and over again. I didn't know I could sound that desperate. But I was.

           The car stopped. Upside down. I just wanted to get out of there. My keys were stuck in the ignition. I could've gotten them out. But what if the car was leaking gas and it exploded? I crawled out of the window instead. There was no one around. Just the green house with the black fence that I always pass on the way home.

           I told the 911 dispatcher what had happened. The fence had a sign on it. I was on 2555. Thank God my car stopped right in front of it, or I wouldn't have been able to tell her where I was. A guy in a black truck stopped and stayed with me while I was on the phone with the dispatcher.

           The guy asked the normal. Was I alright? What happened? Then he asked if there was anyone else in the car. My friend had been in the seat beside me only five minutes early. All I could see was my friend upside down, unconscious beside me. "No," I said. Thank God. "It was just me."

           I couldn't stop shaking. There was a little blood on my head, but it dried fast. I asked the guy if he had a cloth or something so I could apply pressure to it, but it never bled on the tissue paper he gave me. I had glass in me teeth. He got me some water to clean my mouth. I remembered not to drink it though.

           The fire rescue guy, I recognized him. He shops at the grocery store I work at. They said my head seemed fine. A small abrasion. And the cut on my elbow was actually worse even though it didn't look that bad. Maybe I didn't need to go to the hospital. He suggested I do so. But I didn't really want to and if the cut on my head was smaller than that scratch on my arm, I'd rather go home and sleep.

           But my dad called me and told me to go. Fine. I went. They knew I wasn't in bad condition. I had answered all their questions well. But they insisted that I'd be sore the next day. Very sore. It seemed they didn't think I believed them. They didn't have to tell me for me to know.

           That day my head hurt so bad. It felt like my head had hit a car and the pavement. But it had. It's the only way to describe it though. The next day I was sore. But not as much as I had expected. It was like the days I had slept wrong but instead of waking up with a stiff neck, stiff shoulder, or stiff back, I had all three. But it wasn't so bad. I actually had a clogging performance that evening. But I did skip school. Too early in the morning.

           I went to work yesterday and today I feel wonderful. There's a few delayed bruises. But what's a few bruises? I thank God so much that I'm alive. Thank God that I can stand and walk just fine. I'm not in the hospital. God still has things for me to do here. He has kept me safe and healthy. God is so amazing!

           My car though. . . well, Mortimer (my car) gave his life for me. Which I am very grateful for. I mourn his death. . . and am looking for a new car with equal loyalty.