Barb’s Burblings

I got up at the crack of dawn this morning (i.e., 9:30, which is the crack of dawn for a Saturday) and trundled off to the bank to deposit a check I had received because I accidentally put the wrong policy number on a payment to my insurance company. So I pull into the drive-up window. I’m putting my check and deposit slip into the slot when I step on the gas for some unknown reason. Possibly because I’m an idiot. An idiot who forgot to put her car into park. My car lurches forward. My hand is still in the little slot. It whams against the edge of the slot, while my arm whams against something else. I sheepishly put the car in reverse and drive back to the window, where the teller fairly nonchalantly asks whether I’m OK. I say that I am, and she assures me that it happens all the time. Which doesn’t make me feel much better, but it’s better than nothing.
I’m just happy the bruise on my hand isn’t particularly noticable.