So this one time, while driving on the death trap that is I-75...

So I'm driving to Sarasota today, on I-75, as I have done countless times. I am talking to my grandmother, and I'm about ten miles south of Ocala. I often use the time on I-75 to catch up with my relatives, so this is nothing special. I'm going about 78 miles per hour.
The road curves, slightly. I curve with it, and then straighten my wheel. Except my tires don't straighten with my wheel. I must have hit something, or a weird patch in the road, I have no idea, because the next thing I know I am swerving willy-nilly. I drop my cell phone into my lap, trying to regain control of my car. I'm in the lefthand lane, so I jerk the wheel left.
My car promptly goes into a 360 degree spin. I grit my teeth and hope that I am not spinning into the middle lane. I hope I don't hit anyone.
Next thing I know my car is sitting off road. The back has collided with the guard rail. I am fine. My car is still running. R.E.M. is still playing on my stereo. I pick up my phone, shaking.
"Hi Grandma. I just crashed my car. But I'm fine. I need to hang up now. But I'm fine. So don't worry, okay? I'm fine."
I hang up, and look in my review mirror. Two pickup trucks have pulled off road, and men are getting out of both of them. I turn off my car, unbuckle my seat belt, and open the door.
The first man is wearing an olive shirt. The second, a Seminoles shirt.
"Are you all right?" The first man asks.
"OhmyGod. I'm so sorry. Did I hit you?"
"No. Are you all right?"
"Yes." I look at the FSU fan. "Did I hit you?"
"No."
"Oh. Oh God. I'm so sorry."
So as you can imagine, this goes on for a bit. Both men reassure me that I did not hit them--or anyone, for that matter, which I can hardly believe. I'm trembling, but otherwise I'm fine--a bit shaken up, but nothing that a few deep breaths can't heal. The Seminoles fan leaves. The other man remains to ensure I regain my composure and/or sanity. After about five minutes I thank the man for staying with me, and for pulling over to assist me. There is a rest area about half a mile ahead, so I get my car back on the road and head to the rest stop.
At the rest stop I call my father and examine my car. The back right bumper is dented and smashed, and the backlight casing is broken but the bulb still seems to work. The car, apparently, drives just fine. And by some miracle neither I nor anyone else is hurt. I give my father the situation, climb back into my car, and drive the rest of the way to Sarasota.

Okay. I know how utterly ridiculous it is, and how lucky I am, that I did not hit anybody, that I was not hurt, and that the damage to my car is only superficial. I-75 is dangerous, and because I drive it so much I think I lost sight of that. I am fortunate, to be here, to be alive, and to not have caused any serious damage via my out-of-control car.
So that's my story. Be careful whenever you drive home--if you're on I-75, the Turnpike, or even just going down 34th Street.
Just be careful whenever you get behind a wheel. And know how lucky you are, every time you step out of your car--or anywhere, for that matter--intact and alive.