catheroominations

The body shop called me today and told me that my car is “very repairable.” Squee!! I don’t have to buy a new car and take on car payments, and deal with that whole new car smell and drive something brand spanking new and shiny like a MINI Cooper. Thank goodness I don’t have to do that and can continue tooling around in my nice little Accord coupie doopie.

I have decided to refer to my car as bionic when I get it back. Problem is, my car is clearly female, but I don’t want to call it Jaime Somers. For one thing, I have a friend who has a friend with that name and that would be weird if we were going somewhere and I was all, “Hey, I can drive Jaime Somers,” and my friend who has the friend named Jaime Somers would be all, “WHAT?! How?!” To avoid confusion, I could name it after Jaime’s male counterpart Steve Austin, but my car is a GIRL. (I guess. I don’t know how you tell.) So, I’ll just refer to it as a bionic car. When it is rebuilt it will be able to throw SUVs across lanes of traffic, and leap over them should they get in its way. Oh, and it would be able to see obstacles miles and miles ahead. Because that is what bionics can do for you.

I have to admit that I am now a more timid driver. It takes me days to back out of a parking spot in my Hertz-owned Chevrolet Cobalt, partly because I’m not as comfortable in that car, but also because, Oh please don’t anyone get in my way, or I might hit you! And I look over my shoulder like 10 times before changing lanes. No one there? Yeah? I can go? How about now? Can I go still? All clear? Yeah? OK! Here I go…but is my lane still open? Aaaahhnnd…go!

I was feeling some serious guilt about my accident, and have been anthropomorphizing my car. I keep thinking, Here’s this perfectly nice car that never gave me a bit of trouble, and what do I do? I smash it into a big-ass SUV, just like that. Some thank you. If it turned out to be totaled, I would have been very sad to lose it. I even patted the dashboard and apologized to it after the tow truck dropped it off at the shop, consoling it as if I was kissing a loved one goodbye before they went into the OR. I might need to see a professional about this. Maybe the Honda dealership offers couple’s counseling?

But dude, my car is going to be bionic! Better than he it was before. Better, stronger, faster.