Some Days: Creative juices fizzled by fate
Yesterday John got walloped from behind by a Ford Ranger. When you're driving a Tercel (think small), getting hit by such an animal is a bit of a jolt to the system. John was feeling okay yesterday, but is now becoming progressively more sore. Our car couldn't get much sorer:
To make matter even more fun, they're claiming it'll take $6000 to repair the car. The car has a value of about $3500, give or take. The loan still outstanding on the car is for more than the valuation (but less than the damage).
Thus far, the fault seems to be all with the other side (unless they lie). The basic situation was that John was driving along the highway and drove into a snowdrift that was uncleared and in the middle of the lane. He didn't skid or spin, just stopped. The guy behind him hit him less than three seconds later and actually spun the car out into the other lane. The fellow driving didn't own the vehicle (it was his brother's). They exchanged info and John limped the car home, as it was drivable (gingerly).
So John has spent the morning running around getting cars appraised, loaners in place, statements made to police, adjusters contacted and doctors seen. None of this is actually helpful to a guy whose back and shoulders have just taken a helluva whack. Meanwhile I've been sitting here trying to figure out how the heck all this will play out. The money and John's health are my chief worries. I've been going through the motions of working, just to give my mind something to do, but it's not really having much effect.
I can't do the statements, doctor or even insurance stuff because I'm not John and they need to deal with him. I can't even go with him because our carseat was in the car during impact and, even if there's no kid in the seat, a carseat that has been in a car during an accident has to be replaced. So he's out there dealing with stuff and I'm sitting here, worrying.
"Rattled" is a good word.
One of the worst parts of being an artist is having to mentally shut stuff like this out so that you can work. At least in jobs where someone else dictates your schedule, you can go through the motions without thinking too much. I have to make up the motions as I go.
I just hope his shoulders and neck are okay in short order.
Must go paint some fabric. That's pleasant enough and physically preoccupying enough (you kinda have to finish it once you start) to occupy me until next I hear from him.