They say the first step to recovery is acknowledgement.
OK, I own this one. It's all me.
Street parking in Seattle neighborhoods is kinda a pain in the arse. The week before the 4th of July I was busy shuffling cars in and out of my driveway. In doing so, I parked Ernie in the street in front of my neighbor's driveway so that I could move my wife's car. Something I do all the time. My neighbor is cool with it and she does the same when she needs room to move stuff. Then I went inside to take care of some stuff. At some point my neighbor texted me and asked me to move Ernie so she could run an errand. I quickly did so and ended up squeezing Ernie into a parking spot closely behind my Vanagon and ran back inside to finish what I was doing. Later, I was running late to pick up my kid and her friends from some event, so I ran back outside to jump in the Vanagon to take off. I threw it into reverse and then BAM... I backed into my own damn car with the van.
I was in such a rush that I forgot I parked Ernie behind the van. My Vanagon is a lifted 4x4 Syncro and because I parked close I didn't see it in my rearviews when I backed up. DOH!
So, here begins the journey.