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rsadelleI was in San Francisco this week for Facilitative Leadership. The training was really good. One of things I really liked about it compared to other professional development things I've done recently is that it was really focussed on what we do, not who we are. (We did the Keirsey temperament sorter last week, and an emotional intelligence training a couple of months ago, and I haven't been dealing so well with those recently.)
I even somewhat enjoyed San Francisco, which surprised me because last time I was there I really thought I was done with it. I know some people love it, but I don't.
The bad thing about this, of course, is that I had to drive home on Friday night. This is bad first of all because it means I was on the road instead of lighting Shabbat candles at sunset, and secondly because I was trying to get out of the Bay Area at rush hour on a Friday.
It took five and a half hours, including my stop for dinner, to get home, but I made it.
And then, as I was pulling into my parking space, I crashed into the pole holding up the covering on the covered parking. This, my friends, is why you shouldn't drive when you're tired. I am fine, but my poor car is not. Not only that, but I can't get it to a repair shop until Monday, and I may not be able to get a rental until Monday either.
Even though I'm 25 and a full adult, my first instinct when this kind of thing happens is to call my mom. My mother was extremely calm about it and, after ascertaining that I was fine, said, "This has not been this family's week." When I asked what happened, she said, "Your brother is fine."
They got a call in the middle of the night earlier this week saying that my brother was seriously injured. He has a broken nose, there's a severe contusion on his lip, and one side of his face is scraped up, but he's otherwise okay. They're also pretty sure he was knocked out at some point, because he doesn't remember what happened. All we know is that some guy at a gas station near my brother's house saw him walking his bicycle across the street with his face all bloody. The bike appears to be fine, so we don't know if he was hit or if he fell somehow. He did say that he's fallen off his bike or gone over the handlebars plenty of times and been fine.
The good news is that we're both okay and now focussed on the everyday bureaucratic details of dealing with the aftermath of an accident. I'm somewhat annoyed by my own stupidity in crashing into the pole, but mostly irritated by the big hassle it's going to be to get the thing fixed. My brother's most annoyed by the prospect of huge medical bills, especially since he doesn't have insurance.
I even somewhat enjoyed San Francisco, which surprised me because last time I was there I really thought I was done with it. I know some people love it, but I don't.
The bad thing about this, of course, is that I had to drive home on Friday night. This is bad first of all because it means I was on the road instead of lighting Shabbat candles at sunset, and secondly because I was trying to get out of the Bay Area at rush hour on a Friday.
It took five and a half hours, including my stop for dinner, to get home, but I made it.
And then, as I was pulling into my parking space, I crashed into the pole holding up the covering on the covered parking. This, my friends, is why you shouldn't drive when you're tired. I am fine, but my poor car is not. Not only that, but I can't get it to a repair shop until Monday, and I may not be able to get a rental until Monday either.
Even though I'm 25 and a full adult, my first instinct when this kind of thing happens is to call my mom. My mother was extremely calm about it and, after ascertaining that I was fine, said, "This has not been this family's week." When I asked what happened, she said, "Your brother is fine."
They got a call in the middle of the night earlier this week saying that my brother was seriously injured. He has a broken nose, there's a severe contusion on his lip, and one side of his face is scraped up, but he's otherwise okay. They're also pretty sure he was knocked out at some point, because he doesn't remember what happened. All we know is that some guy at a gas station near my brother's house saw him walking his bicycle across the street with his face all bloody. The bike appears to be fine, so we don't know if he was hit or if he fell somehow. He did say that he's fallen off his bike or gone over the handlebars plenty of times and been fine.
The good news is that we're both okay and now focussed on the everyday bureaucratic details of dealing with the aftermath of an accident. I'm somewhat annoyed by my own stupidity in crashing into the pole, but mostly irritated by the big hassle it's going to be to get the thing fixed. My brother's most annoyed by the prospect of huge medical bills, especially since he doesn't have insurance.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-13 10:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 12:32 am (UTC)