You live 23 years just fine, and then one day your parents get divorced. They sell the house, you help, it’s amicable, everyone adjusts and you breathe a sigh of relief.
The next day on the way to work you get hit by a semi. You are a mess for six weeks, but you recover, go back to work, adjust, and breathe a sigh of relief.
One day your lawyer calls and says the guy who hit you died. They make the arrangements, you spend years fighting over medical bills and whether or not the guy had a stroke, but one afternoon in mediation they apologize, admit fault, and settle. You breathe a sigh of relief.
You walk away with a check in your hand after three years. People ask why you’re crying because, like, 20 grand is awesome news. You don’t really know. This is your knee replacement money when your knees go out because they were smashed by your steering wheel. Or your hip replacement money because your first hip was caught in the driver’s side door. This money will pay for 65 more years of Aleve at night. You have paid your lawyer for his work. You have paid Anthem for your medical bills. What you have left is just enough to cover your expenses plus a car and a tooth and a computer. It’s over. And you breathe a sigh of relief.
The next day, you get a call from Nationwide. Your own car insurance company. They want thousands of dollars back for the medical bills they paid on your behalf after the accident. Where were they when you were trying to settle? Where were they when the other claims adjuster got fired for negligence? What about the $100 you’ve paid them every month since you were 16? Why did they not pay the attorney’s fees to help you recover the money?
So three years later, Anthem has their money, the lawyer has his money, Nationwide has their money and you have this horrific memory of being run over by a semi, two rickety knees, an aching hip and a lifetime dependency on Alieve and Ambien. You were just driving to work. And although you know the truth and you’ll ultimately be at peace with life, this is your internal monologue: God hates me. God loves me. God hates me. God loves me. God hates me.
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