I feel like I’m not helping the stereotype of women drivers recently…
Last Monday I backed into by closed garage door. I was in the garage.
I looked back before backing out but didn’t realize I was looking through the garage door windows, not an open door. Then SMASH, a ruined garage door and a car that needs some buffing and painting.
After a reluctant call to my landlord telling him of my seriously shameful mistake I called the insurance company. I have a new garage door now, but the car is another story. It’s in the shop and I'm cruisin' around in a Jeep Patriot. Ugh! What a hassle!
I think I was just so excited that Kubes was on his way that very day that my mind was not in the car with me at the time. That’s what insurance is for though right?