WAITING FOR THE BODY SHOP, GODOT

Waiting ... waiting ... waiting ... not so patiently for my car to be repaired. 

My car (with me in it) got t-boned two weeks ago by someone who jumped a stop sign and didn't look both ways.  I was driving along minding my merry business when all of a sudden I was slammed sideways into the opposite lane.  When I got out of my car to look, thankfully the damage wasn't horrendous (and everyone was okay).

But geez-loo-eeze with the insurance claim process. 

While I appreciate the care and administrative paperwork the body shop has been doing, I have been car-less for exactly a week and a day.  And, no, for the first time in my life I did NOT rent a car because I can bum rides to and from work, live within walking distance of damn-near everything, and going after the other person's insurance for the rental would've added another layer of stress to my life.

I'm trying to avoid stress in my life.

Of course, I cannot even believe I typed that without my fingers falling off.  Stress IS my life.  The only way to avoid stress will be with my imminent and final breath.  When that happens, it damn-well better be a stress-free final slumber, I can tell you that.

Until such time as my demise occurs, though, it would be oh-so-very wondrous to have my car back at some point.  Any point.  Today.  Tomorrow.  Next week.  Just tell me when the hell my car is going to be back in my possession as I think I may have forgotten how to drive it.

Meanwhile, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to the body shop doing the work, but please remember that YOU made the appointment and told me when to bring the car in, and YOU are the ones with the direct pipeline to both the adjustment bureau and the insurance company.

Waiting.  Waiting, waiting, waiting for my car.  It's like Waiting for Godot but with collateral damage and without the whole drop-trou fiasco.