A hit-and-run — and a possible prelude?

At some point between midnight and noon today, some inconsiderate asshole hit my car and drove off.

I have no clue what happened or when. Obviously another car damaged my left front fender and bumper, but I do not know when or where exactly it happened. I parked on the street last night and did not notice any damage this morning when I cleaned the frost off the windows and drove around. I did not notice anything when I returned, parking in the lot behind my building. I only saw the dents and scraped paint when I took a banana peel to the dumpster around noon.

Ugh. Though it pisses me off I know it is (cross my fingers) an easy fix. As far as I can tell there is no mechanical damage and the car runs and drives well. It is an aesthetic blemish that can be repaired with a new fender and bumper. I called my insurance company and the wheels are rolling on that as I write. What I am most worried about instead is this portending a bad year.

I have mixed memories of 1992, and suppose 1982 was good because it was my birth year. But the last year ending in “2” was the worst year of my life. I am not offering any more detail than that. Trust me: it was bad. So bad, in fact, I have dreaded 2012 for the simple reason 200_ (I will not even write it) may have forever made me weary of years ending in “2.” It sounds strange, but I guess I am a strange guy.

Perhaps I am being über paranoid and today’s hit-and-run is nothing but an unfortunate facet of car ownership striking at a dubious time. I have learned, experienced, and grown a lot, and feel I am much better prepared for life’s curveballs than I was during the deep doldrums of 200_; there is a lot of year left and I am committed to returning “2” to its former glory. However, I cannot help being a tad leery.