Ditch the car, it’ll only slow us down

Total miles: 1216
Miles to go: approximately 1214

Behind every traffic report, there’s at least one disrupted story. This is mine.

We made it fifteen minutes before we hit trouble. Or rather, trouble hit me, in the form of a guy with a Budget rent-a-truck (wisely) moving out of New Jersey for somewhere else. Silly me, I thought I was in the driver seat but it was actually Isaac Newton, who really, really wanted to hit the Camaro in front of me. So he did, as the glass flew forward and the airbag blew out and my dog started wondering what the hell was going on.

It didn’t kill the motor, just bent the hood and the bumper. The Camaro got its bumper bent in, same as mine, and the moving truck got the least of it with a couple broken grill ribs. We all pulled over and did the awkward thing where we pretend no ones at fault while we know who is and don’t say anything until the cop showed up and made it official.

So as I transferred all my stuff out of the car into the trailer my wife was pulling, I realized that the car was never destined to go west of the Mississippi, and may have known it. But that’s okay; the nature of change is partially expected, partially not. One cannot predict all changes without having a complete data set beforehand.

We made it to Dallas without further incident just before midnight, where we stayed at the house of my wife’s uncle. We’re going to visit her grandparents tomorrow, and assuming all goes well after that, we’ll arrive in the Phoenix Metro Area on Saturday. That is, of course, a giant question mark at this point, since carma (heh) seems to have it in for us. At least Scott didn’t have to deal with this, but he might in the future. I am god of his universe (and thankfully nothing else) and he may yet just have to deal with a pile of more crap than he’s seen before. Maybe.