An hour ago (8:45 AM PT) at the intersection of West Lake Sammamish and Interstate 90, one of those double dump trucks (technically called, I now see, a Transfer Dump Truck) owned by Pacific Topsoils started to pull out from 90 across Lake Sammish. I was traveling north.
The truck started to pull out in front of me. I hit my brakes and the horn. The truck stopped.
By the time I had stopped, I was half-way across the front of the truck.
If it hadn’t stopped I wouldn’t have been able to stop in time and would’ve hit it. And, those trucks are so wide that there’s no way I could’ve swerved.
And those things are big enough that if I hit it, it wouldn’t move, really. It would be the proverbial hitting a brick wall.
I would’ve died, I do think.
So, that’s more than a little freaky. My eye is twitching now and my hands are shaking. That’s the closest I’ve ever actually come to dying, truly.
I’ve said for a while that just as you can’t realistically live like there’s no tomorrow, you also can’t live like there will always be one either.
I almost didn’t have a tomorrow. The lunch I have planned with my wife tomorrow: wouldn’t have happened. On Friday, our traditional pizza night: wouldn’t have happened. The trip we’ve got planned for the UK: wouldn’t have happened.
If that idiot hadn’t stopped, the only thing left to happen for me would’ve been for me to be put in a furnace and turned into ash.
Yeah, you can say I’m more than a little freaked out by this.