As I was valiantly getting the kids who stayed up too late ready for camp this morning, the doorman buzzed to let us know our car had been hit by a cab.
I was sure he made a mistake. Our car wasn't on the corner, it was parked up the block, not bothering anyone. We threw on clothes and ran downstairs to find that yes, our well-behaved, not moving car had bright yellow gouges across the back door, shards of shiny plastic strewn across the pavement, the attack cab stuck diagonally across the street, blocking all traffic. Turns out the axel fell off and the poor driver lost control, smashing into a sedan first and then skidding into our car.
No one was hurt.
And yet my stomach's in a knot. I'm still dizzy (it started yesterday). Anxious. Profoundly tired in spite of a good sleep.
I'm not sure what's up.
I hate not feeling well and not knowing why.
Can't wait for this to pass.
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