I'm an idiot. We all know I have moments where I'm not at the top of my game, but this is the worst. This will also explain why I haven't been round to the pub or even corresponded.
My brother,years ago, got his Muggle drivers license. He kept convincing me to try it. 'It's not difficult,' he'd say. 'It's great when you don't want to apparate or the floo isn't working.' I listened to him. I read the books for months. He assisted in teaching me. I ended up passing! I should have quit while I was ahead.
Because I am Aidan Lynch, disaster struck. How? Andrew, that's my brother, let me borrow his car. I had passed, remember? (Muggles are odd... no offense intended. I know I'm odd too). So, I had his car and I was driving back from Sasha's house (this was beginning of April) one night when, as I was crossing this intersection some Muggle plows into Andrew's car (and me in it). Apparently it was a right mess. All these folks surrounded me. Lots of words. And the pain. Bloody hell.
Lots of things ended up broken and the Muggles took me to their hospital where I've been for the past few weeks, unable to talk or have this thing, or have an owl. My family had no clue what happened either until they could find Andrew, since he was the owner. It wasn't my fault, the other driver was distracted or something. But I'm finally home and /still/ broken. Muggles need magic and I need help. I need fixing the right way.
I'm typing this one handed filled with Muggle painkillers. They can do one thong right. If things are choppy and confusing, bear with me. I'm never driving again. I'll take the tube, if I must.
Also, Sasha had her twins. I'm an uncle again. I have a picture somewhere.
Cheers.