Last Tuesday, I walked out of the Chelmsford Public Library, after working there on my computer that morning, to where my car was parked, and I saw this:

And a jolt zapped through my gut. Who the hell did that to my car?! How?…

Backing up for a second, getting some perspective…

On the morning of December 8, 2010, I passed two—not just one but two—accidents on the highway. Usually, there aren’t any. But that day, one of them closed down the entire highway. And I was one of the first batch of drivers to get caught in the resulting traffic jam, even before news of the accident hit the news. The experience gave me some time to think, and I recalled accident stories from my past.

That’s when I decided to write this story.

(Yes, that’s sometimes how long it takes me to go from post idea to final publication.)

(By the way, this is not exactly a funny story. But it should be relatively fun to read, and I’m desperate for Friday material this week. So—sorry—this is what you’re stuck with.)

About a year before I met my Beloved, I totaled an almost-new Geo Prizm. I was much younger then, a young twenty-something carefree, still living with my parents.

When I wrote this piece, I was not sure I was ready to talk about it. I had not even told the story to my Beloved yet. But, I thought, maybe writing about it would make it easier. That was over 5 months ago. Since then, I’ve told my Beloved part of the story, but this is the first time I’ve gone through it in any detail. I’m still not sure I’m ready to talk about it.

About a year before I met my Beloved, I totaled an almost-new Geo Prizm. I was much younger then, a young twenty-something carefree, still living with my parents. (That’s a different story, which I’ve queued to run this Friday.)

For the next twenty years, I never got into an accident.

Had you seen me a week ago Tuesday morning, you might have thought I had peed my pants, because I had an accident. The kind of accident that involves a car. And bottled water.

I was driving down the highway, when I decided to open my bottle. Stupid, yeah, I know. But My Firstborn was sleeping so soundly in the passenger’s seat, and I didn’t want to wake her.

So I reached over with my right hand, and I started wrestling with the cover. After all, I figured, I’m a young (ish), strong guy; I should be able to undo a water bottle one-handed.

Once upon a time, I couldn’t see the point of these new-fangled gadget cell phones that can text-message, play MP3’s, take pictures, and sometimes can just barely not even make a phone call. (You know what I’m talking about.)

Today, however, I copied all the files from my cell phone onto my computer, and I found numerous photos that I and my kids had taken, some of which are kinda cool, and others of which bring back memories. Most of us don’t carry a camera around, but we do carry our cell phones around. So when a photo-op presents itself, good thing we have some way to capture the moment.

(By the way, my cell phone takes pictures no better than any other cell phone, of much lower quality than the camera my brother’s uses to take his pro-quality photos. Most of the shots on there stunk. But some of them I was able to salvage, and the images you see here have been enhanced and processed to look half-decent.)

Start with this cute shot I took, across the parking lot from my favorite Starbucks. When I saw these two storefronts, side by side, the only thing I could think was, I wonder if they’re in business together.

(You can click on the photo for a higher-resolution image.)

I did not laze around on the beach all day, everyday, reading books, writing on my laptop– Ah, that would have been fun.

I’m actually still on my “summer vacation,” even though the calendar and the weather both say we’re well into autumn. Because it wasn’t really a vacation, although it was a vacation from full-time writing.

I’ve been spending most of my time on a full-time software contract, developing software for a commercial search engine (which does not have a ‘G’ in its name). A big surprise to me: I discovered that I haven’t lost my touch. I fell into developing code just as easily as if it had been riding a bike. But I also have been maintaining a sense of distance from the project, doing the work for the money–doing my best work, yes, and giving my best advice, but not becoming personally invested in the results. (And if you don’t understand why this is such an important transformation for me, I recommend a National Geographic documentary about stress, which I recently watched, especially the very last segment.

I also discovered that I still make mistakes after almost 30 years, but at least I learn from them. And at least the mistakes are on the margins, subtle.

I apologize for the delay. It’s been over two weeks since my last post, and I haven’t replied to anyone’s comments or emails. Part of the reason is that I billed over 30 hours last week on this new software-development job, a heavy week for an off-site contractor. (I’ll have to explain to you the math of billed contractor hours versus employee hours sometime.) And I’ll probably bill about 30 hours this week, too. In between those hours—at least last week—I spent numerous hours taxiing the family around, my Beloved to and from work, my daughter C to and from school. I would get up in the morning, drive around, and get home just in time to start working with the guys at Client Z, out on the west coast.

That’s because we had one working car, and it wasn’t even ours.

“Why does all this stuff happen to us? It can’t be bad karma. We never did anything.” Or so says the Little One. And I think she’s right. Sometimes shit just happens.

And if it could have waiting just another month or two, I wouldn’t even be in a jam. Incredible. It’s like, just when you think things are looking up and you can breathe easy and ends will finally meet without stretching, the universe is like, “Uh. Hold on a sec—” Or as Dad puts it sometimes, “Cheer up! Things are going to get worse.”

(My Little One is not so little any more, BTW. But I still call her that. She insists. I don’t think she wants to grow up.)

Since last week, I’ve started working this new software-development contract. Last night, I had my first real “Aha!” moment. The engineer I’m working with seems a capable guy and easy to work with. Blessings for a confirmed cynic. Money’s still a little tight, until I get paid on my first invoice, which should happen in about a month. That’s how it is in independent contract work. But we can make it. And in the meantime, I’m keeping track day by day of how much I’ve earned. Yeah, money is a poor motivator, which is something that people say who already have plenty of money. But as it turns out, this contract looks like it will be bearable anyhow, and maybe even enjoyable. I was actually feeling pretty good about my situation.

And then…