If I had some sense of direction…others tell me I just need to try harder to read maps, practice longer, blase, blah. I’ve tried and tried and tried and tried. After that I tried some more. If I had just gotten there on time. Hell, if I just managed to stay in the same county I was going to go to. If hadn’t taken that one wrong turn which in Tampa can mean going all the way across Tampa Bay and this wrong turn did. If I had stopped for directions or gas or I don’t know, a slurpee, I wouldn’t have been driving right beside that truck. Then I wouldn’t have had him hit me when he swung into my lane for some god awful, unexplainable, life-changing reason. Then he wouldn’t have smashed my car to smithereens and not gotten a scratch on his as he drove one of those huge, freight trucks. Then he wouldn’t have permanently damaged the L4 and L5 sections of my lower back, tearing part of the tissue wide open and away from my spine so everything comes out and rubs my spine and becomes inflamed. Then he wouldn’t have lied to the police and said it was my fault. Then when I figured out I was injured, I wouldn’t have gone to doctors who did x-rays and said you’re fine, there’s no breaks and gone to chiropractors and physical therapist and finally requested an MRI. Then when the results of the damage came back, I wouldn’t have been referred to a pain clinic where they they put me on opiates, yes, dangerous, addictive opiates, and started to do spinal tap procedures where they injected steroids as nerve blockers in my lower back and tailbone. Then I wouldn’t have those first few days after where I was horribly irritable from the steroids and in pain from the surgery. If one of those dreaded fat needles bearing irritation-producing steroids hadn’t gone in my tailbone two days ago, I wouldn’t have chewed out my landlord for a variety of what I felt to be justified issues this morning. Then I wouldn’t be sitting here, irritated, in pain, and now feeling like a real piece of shit.