Mortgaging My Soul, Once Again

Yesterday I came to two separate conclusions.

1)  God punishes the wicked.  Severely.  When your kids are young, tell them the scary stories about Evil Uncle Casey, his wicked ways, and how God struck him down.  Not the Biblical "God Smiting" stories.  Oh no, God kills you slowly.  I'm thinking that it's his only form of amusement.

2)  Mike and I are not meant to have vehicles.  Not driving them mind you; owning them.

With my window being smashed in, Mike's tire flying off, you would think that I would have learned these lessons by now.  But I was naive.  I just didn't know.  So God, in his infinite humor, decided to teach me these two important lessons.

See my prior post about driving around after a blizzard. 

Now, while the roads were awful at times, I survived.  I made it to my driveway and jumped for joy; I lived!

Now, as a back story before I go on, our garage door is Satan's handy work.  When it gets really cold, it only opens a quarter of the way.  So, when you hit the clicker, you have to run out to the garage door and help it up so that it makes it.  The bitch is being replaced this spring.

So, as it's hovering around 0 degrees, I knew that it wouldn't open by itself.  So I stop the vehicle, get my garage door clicker, and start to exit the vehicle.  Now, the next couple of seconds I'll explain in a step by step sequence, as it's utterly horrific and things like this needs broken down.

1)  I have one foot out of the door, the other on the brake.

2)  I let my foot of the brake.

3)  I neglected to put the vehicle in park beforehand.

4)  I was partially thrown out of the vehicle, my knee smashing into the driveway.

5)  I realized my stupidity, started screaming, "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

6)  I threw myself back into the car and threw the vehicle into the park position.

7)  RIGHT before I put it into park, my vehicle hits the garage door.

8)  I scream out in pure and utter embarrassment from hitting my own garage door.

Now, my car only had a very minor scratch.  The garage door has a very minor dent in it.  You can barely see it.  It's just funny 'cause this insured of ours did something very similar two weeks ago and I was making fun of her and "HOW could you hit your own garage door?!?!"   Apparently I was being punished for being a wicked person.

But, strangely enough, the garage door is working fine now.  It just needed a wee nudge to get it going.

Or maybe it's just terrified that, if it doesn't get it's act together, I'll ram my car THROUGH it!

Yes, even inanimate objects live in fear of my driving!

Flee, flee and don't look back, as you may see me barreling towards you with my scratched vehicle and applying my lip balm.

*cackles and rubs his hands together*