mirror, mirror, on the car...

I'm sure many people have had this same experience, but damn.

A couple of days ago, I had a shitty day at work. A world-class "I can't believe I didn't punch someone in the throat" kind of day.

Fast forward to a couple hours (and a couple beers) later: my roomie and I ran some errands and goofed off and then headed home. We took my car and he drove. We have a big ass trailer sitting in the driveway, so when I pull in the garage, I always try to be as straight as possible. When he pulls in, he always pulls the car off to the side, which annoys the hell out of me.

After we get home, he's picking on me and teasing (trying to cheer me up I'm sure), but in typical female fashion, I snapped.

I stormed out of the house, in my sweats and slippers no less, claiming the need to "go for a drive".

I furiously back out of the driveway and barely make it halfway before I hear the sickening crunch of metal on metal. I look up to see my side mirror smashed in between my car and the trailer.

I pull back into the garage and proceed to burst into tears. I have completely decapitated my mirror.

After a few minutes of sobbing to my roommate about how I break everything I touch, I calmed down.

All I could think was "on a good note, I guess I gained another couple inches of clearance."