Fuck insurance and fuck body shops.

I might have already written about this here. I don’t know. Anyway, at the end of last month it was super foggy outside and I was driving in the morning and as I turned to face east the sun was just lighting up my windshield and I couldn’t see where I was going. So I went to pull over, because the road I was on has cars parked on both sides so it’s actually only one lane wide. I rear-ended a jeep, and had what looked to me like a bend in my hood and a broken light lens. People recommended that I look into fixing it myself, but I thought I didn’t have enough money so I would do it through insurance. What the fuck does it matter to me, I thought, if my premiums rise for some future year where I may or may not even be here? So off to the body shop I went, where they quoted over $4000. They wanted to repaint fenders so it would match the hood and all this crap, and the insurance lady said that they had a duty to restore my car to the way it was before the accident so I couldn’t just say “straighten out the hood and I don’t care if it’s a different shade of gray.”

However, they don’t think it’s actually worth restoring my car to the way it was before, because it’s a 2005 with almost 200,000 km on it, so they’re just gonna write me a check and write the car off.

So now I don’t have a car.  Or at least I won’t have a car after tomorrow morning. My dad is going to be pissed, because he gave me this car when they bought a new car for themselves and I’m sure it was some sort of hand me down, like I’m never going to be able to buy myself a decent car so they’ll help me out. Anyway, I texted my sister to *please* call me today, because my parents often call on the weekends and my dad often asks how the car is and how the cat is just for something to say. Not bringing it up until it comes up is one thing, but I’d like to at least have some kind of game plan for what to say.

You can’t get a car, really, for what the insurance company is giving me. It would have to be a pretty old beater, with pretty high mileage, and I’m not really thinking I want to take a test drive with some guy off craigslist or whatever. So I got the name of a car salesman from a friend of mine, and it was clear that I need to get some kind of financing even if I got the most-used of their used cars. So I told the guy that is straight up over the phone, and said that my credit probably wasn’t great and I didn’t want to waste his time. They said they do a preapproval and expected to call me back by the end of Saturday afternoon, which they didn’t, which probably means I can’t get a car unless I go to one of those rip off places that say “have shitty credit? We will finance you!”

It’s so fucking depressing, because my ex tried his best to fuck over the finances when we were married, and then I took it over and I was being so responsible. And then he left me when I was on disability, and then I couldn’t get a new job, and the EI ran out and then I was on welfare, so I was starting from scratch.  Then a couple years later I went on short-term disability for depression, and got let go as soon as I got back, and I ended up finding a job before I got on welfare again, thank goodness, but I decided to go to the nonprofit credit consolidation place because I couldn’t keep up with the minimum payments for everything and I thought once I dug myself out I would be OK.

So now since then I’ve paid off over $10,000, and I’ve been on time every time except for last year when I paid two payments in one month instead of waiting for the first day of the next month and they wouldn’t count that as anything but a skipped payment for the month that I’d paid in advance for. Anyway, I would have enough to pay off the rest with what I’m going to get from insurance, and then all I would have for debt is some student loans. I’d actually have a positive net value if I dropped dead right now.

It doesn’t matter though, because now I don’t have a car and I live in an apartment where basically I just walk in the door and come to bed, and I have all the stuff for a life I’m not gonna live, and I so don’t want to fucking be here.

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