as days pass by

So, Sam’s car blew the head gasket. Bit of a pain, could cost up to £750 to get fixed. Not happy. She took my car to work, I drove hers to the garage to ask about getting it fixed. They told me how much it’d cost: I said, “fuck me that’s a lot of money! Can I get back to you this evening? Meanwhile, can I leave the car here so we can pick it up tonight? I have to go to work.” They agreed, and off I went to work.
A few phone calls later, it turned out that the head gasket is covered by the warranty. Brilliant. A ray of sunshine in my sad life with cars. So I rang Sam, told her the good news. She agreed to go to the garage when she left work, leave my car there, and pick hers up and drive it home. No problem. She dropped my car off at 5.15pm. I got off the bus at 7pm to get my car and drive it home.
Whereupon I found that someone had crashed into the side of it.
I hate everything. Everything. My car! My beautiful car!
I feel like I’m going to cry.