Continued: The weirdest week of my life aka I’ve almost died like four times

For part one, go here

Sure enough: the formerly parked white jeep was careening toward me at an unnatural rate for a car with no driver [must’ve been a five-speed].

I jumped/ran out of the way and stopped.  The driver of the car that hit the jeep was sitting in her car, mouth bleeding, steering wheel smoking, sideways in the lane.

I yelled out “Are you okay?” and ran over to her, telling her she should probably get out of the car. (Remind me sometime to tell you about the great car-turned-fireball-on-the-side-of-I-40 fiasco of 1999)

She stumbled out, wearing one birkenstock, and went, “Whew! I was just reaching down for my cell phone! What happened?”

And then she spit blood.

“Um, you hit that jeep.  Do you wanna sit down?”

I said this as I was opening my cell phone to dial 911.

“Yeah. Oh, should I move my car?

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her car wasn’t moving by itself for a VERY long time.

At this point, about thirty people from surrounding doctors’ offices had come out to gape at the wreck.  One nurse yelled out, as I had the phone to my ear, “Are you calling 911?”

No, lady, I’m calling Katie to see what she wore to work today.  OF COURSE I’M CALLING 911.

Dumb bitch.

So, the crowd of people come down to the street, basically SWARMING, and a nice-looking nurse says to me, “What happened?”

I pointed to the jeep: “She hit that”

“Was it parked there?”

At this point, some random guy comes walking up and says, “No, it was parked THERE” and points SEVERAL yards away.

It was then that I realized the jeep had landed RIGHT where I’d previously been standing.

So I turn to nice-looking nurse lady and say “Are you gonna be here, ’cause I gotta go to work.”

And left.

And called my mom and almost threw up because I was thisclose to being hit by a flying car. But not a Delorean.

The next morning, I decided to walk over to the cafeteria to get breakfast, and my boss went with me.

As we returned to our building, I went to open the door.

And the handle came off in my hand.  I could only stand there, shaking my head.

That night, I went to nightwork and we finished waaay late.

I walked out the door about two minutes before L and S and noticed a guy walking from underneath the fire escape.

“Hm. Probably sitting under there smoking weed or something”

He walked to his car, parked near mine.

I vaguely recall him backing out and leaving.

The next thing I know, L and S are next to my passenger window, gesturing in the rapidly departing car’s direction.

I excused myself from my phone conversation and rolled down my window.

“Did you see that?!?!?!”, they cried.

“What, that guy?”

“Yeah, he almost hit your car! If you had been standing behind it, he definitely would’ve hit you.  He gunned it backwards, then slammed on brakes and sped off.”

“What?! Well, I DID see him come out from under the fire escape. Maybe he’s high.”

“Um, so don’t leave by yourself again, ok?”

OKAY.

I resumed my phone conversation and, after regaling the person on the other end with details of what had just happened they said, “Um. It’s possible he was waiting under the stairs for you.”

Probably.

The next day at work, my boss and I walked somewhere together that involved hopping off a small ledge on our return.

“Be careful” she warned.

“Oh, I hop off this thing all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly having the best week.”

The rest of the day was uneventful [well, unless you count getting word that I didn’t get a job I applied for, but later on that in a minute].

The next morning I arrived to work in my cute blue pants that are starting to fit looser [double-pump].

After a trip to empty my bladder, I decided to check out my own ass in the mirror.

Oh, come on, like you don’t do it too.

As I turned to look, I saw something: a big rip down the middle of my pants.

GREEEEEAAAT.

At least I live five minutes away and was able to go home and change after showing my boss and having her say, “Yeah, you need to change probably.”

That was the end of the bad things.  After that, good things have been coming at me just like that white jeep from before.

While I WAS passed up on a job for which I was CERTAIN I interviewed well, I decided to turn it into something positive: I emailed one of my interviewers letting her know that I appreciated her time and did she have any suggestions for me in the future.

She wrote back that they had hired internally [something I’m looking for in my next place of employment: mobility within] and that it was a tough choice, but asked me to continue to check their jobs and apply.

So today, I did. And once I was finished applying for a job, I looked at my profile.

“Send to Manager” was written beside a job I’d never even applied for.  “Send to Manager” means “book an interview”.

Yesssss.

While I was on my way to my car to go home for lunch, my voicemail alert went off.  I had a message from the company asking me to call about the job I’d applied for maybe two hours earlier.

Double yesssssss.

It ended up that the recruiter was going to call me back to set up an interview, but when she looked in the system, she saw that I was already being considered for another position there.  She called me to tell me that, and said she’d put my interview process on hold for now.

Three considerations from a big company in one month?

I think I can handle that.

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