It was raining, I was on my way to the Walters Art Gallery to hang with a friend and shake the blues I've been going through; I hit a car. It was a silver mini-van that was 9 years old. The man driving was so rattled, his hands were shaking. Or maybe they always do, I don't know. I felt awful, horrible, started crying. He told me he had been hit from behind five years ago, giving him back problems. Now I feel really bad - have I exacerbated his pain?

I finally reached my friend to let her know I wouldn't make it. I knocked off his spare tire, and my car's hood is all smashed in. Driving back home, the steam just poured out of the radiator. The traffic was ridiculous and I was worried I wouldn't make it back. It looks pretty bad, but of course I can't open the hood to see the damage. So it might not be too bad.

I hope my car isn't considered a total loss by the insurance company - but it's certainly dealable either way. The thing is, whenever I start thinking about hitting this man in his car, I start tearing up and feeling utterly miserable for causing some one I don't even know such pain. I feel really, really terrible about it. He doesn't deserve it.

The thing is, this totally changed my whole day. I was supposed to either lay about the house and mope or go see a friend. I also was supposed to go to the gym and work out. The hangover from the party and this accident - a bit much.