So today I was hit by a car.
I guess technically, I was more “pushed” than “hit,” but it’s more shocking to say I was hit by a car. I mean, if you walk up to someone and say, “I was pushed by a car.” What is that? It’s nothing.
I was walking with Shannon to Target. I had been putting this Target trip off for a about a week now, due to the worsening weather conditions. (I believe this is what I get for ending procrastination. Had I continued to procrastinate on my shopping venture, I never would have been hit. Pushed, rather.)
The light turned green and we started to cross the street. A man (on his cell phone, of course) didn’t give himself enough time to brake on the icy streets and he stopped a couple feet into the crosswalk. Into me.
I was shocked, naturally, but dear Shannon began yelling profusely at the man in my defense. He said something about trying to stop and then drove off. It’s good to see that chivalry isn’t dead.
I am fine, however, and am wondering if maybe I should have prefaced this blog with that statement. Just a sore knee and perhaps a bruise when I wake up tomorrow. I wondered briefly if I should have called off work tonight, but I didn’t. I’m here, thanks to Aleve.
But it did give me quite a scare. I’m still doubting whether it all happened or whether it just a figment of my over-active imagination. My knee has no such doubts.