Yesterday the husband told me that I had to get dressed in clean clothes and not the sweats I'd been wearing for 2 days and go out somewhere. Go to the Y (but if I exercise I have time to obscess about what's going on), go shopping, and here's where I knew he thought I was really really sick, he told me to go to a yarn store. I got dressed. Not snappy and stylish, but clean. I went to Kohl's. I bought bras (I know, about as exciting as an audit). I also found 2 pair of capris on a clearance rack for $3.50, I bought a sleeveless t-shirt. Girlchild and I ventured over to Target so she could buy a neighbor girl a birthday present (girlfriend will be at her friend's house when I go to court, that day just happens to be her little friend's birthday). Then we ventured over to our nearly empty outlet center where we bought the husband a little something for his birthday on Cinco de Mayo.
My witness to the accident sent me a message through his son. I've only met the witness briefly at the accident when I stood next to his car crying and asking to use his phone. My son figured out who his son was the day after the accident (his son is a year ahead of mine and they both were running on the track team). It seems that my witness took the time to go down to the police station to give a statement. The officer basically told him that he wouldn't take the statement, that he believes the guy that rear ended me. We (my husband and I)have emailed a statement to the chief of police. We are contacting a lawyer. I have hives. I can't knit. Oh, I can knit the baby hats and I'm churning those out at a faster rate than usual. I have half a footie on needles, but the knitting mojo isn't there, it's been replaced by hives, and thoughts of hiring an attorney. Thoughts that I really don't believe in lawsuits. I mean, there's nothing wrong with them in the right context, and I'm sure that this is the right context. I don't want money. I want my car back. I want to not be afraid to drive it again. I want to wear my sweater that matches my car and putter around. I want to be able to read and comprehend what I'm reading, I want to be able to focus. I want the guy who hit me to take an anger management class and perhaps a driving course.
I want to feel like me again.