Bad week

There is no joy when you crash your beloved dirtbike into some moron's expensive car. Especially not when such an event comes at the end of a week of teaching with sinusitis, and just before your boss telling you that your schedule is imminently changing for the worse.

The moron was making a slow left hand turn and thought it might be a good idea to just stop halfway through the turn, before actually reaching the road he was turning onto. I breaked and swerved, but not enough, and hit his car going about 60 kmh. Enough speed to get me airborne for a few seconds and seven meters of road. I was lucky. I fell on my back and ass, rolling just a little and snapping my right ankle on the pavement. My shoe flew off down the road, and I rolled around in pain, not knowing which hurt worse, my ankle or my heart. I felt something strange jamming into my ass and at first thought it was the top knob of my femur. I thought I dislocated my right leg. When I regained a little sense, I realized it was my wallet in an unusual position. I was still in the road and my bike was still going, the back tire spinning. The throttle must have been pinned on.

The cops came, a man I knew just happened to be passing by and helped with the translation and all. My bike wasn't registered so there was nothing I could do in terms of the law, even though the accident was almost entirely his fault. Had my bike been registered I may not be looking at the repair cost that almost equals what I paid for the bike. I went to the hospital, got some Xrays. The doctor found nothing broken, so I got a brace and the advice to keep off it for a few days. The plans to go to GyeongJu were canned, and the weekend that followed a terrible week was boring at best.