So, it's 10am here on a drizzly and bleak Thursday down here in Oz. Not early by most standards, but argh, am I tired. I had to get up at 8:15am (I know, again, not really early) and it was really hard because I had only had maybe 3 hours of broken sleep.
Normally, I wouldn't be awake until around this time or later, since I'm more of a night owl kind of person, but I had to take my boyfriend to work because he went and crashed his car last night. He's okay, thank god, but the same can't be said for his car.
It's pretty much a write-off. And the worst part? It was his fault. He was at a traffic light intersection, turning right and he was messing around with his iPod (which I've lectured him not to do so many times) and he thought he had a green arrow, but he didn't. He went and a 4WD hit him in the back drivers side rear panel, spinning his car around and completely taking off the back bumper. The other car suffered virtually no damage and nobody was hurt, which is good, of course, but I can't help but be a little mad at him for being so reckless.
It's his second major accident in less than 6 months and I just think that's ridiculous. He's lucky he's never been hurt or hurt anyone else, but it's distressing that he doesn't seem to be learning his lesson. And he's so damn "macho" about it, too. I mean, I can't help but get a little panicked when he calls me and tells me he's been in an accident (I suffer from severe anxiety, which doesn't help) and he's always just so blase about the whole thing. He's attitude is that he didn't get hurt, nobody else got hurt so it's all good.
It's very frustrating. He's frustrating. Argh, time for chocolate milk and a nap.
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