Bike on Rack vs. the Garage

Yesterday started out as a good day. I had a list of things I needed to get done and 90% of them were accomplished. I even managed to do some things that weren't on my list. I washed my car, met up with Amy and went for a ride, and then we met up with Marc and Tom for dinner. It was a good day. As I am driving home, I am tired from a long day, but still very alert. I managed to spot a deer standing off to the side of the road and slowed to a speed where I would be able to maneuver around it if it were to suddenly jump in my path.
I get very nervous about deer. We live in a very rural area and there are deer everywhere from dusk on. I see deer almost on a nightly basis. There have been times that I have had to come to a complete stop as a pack of deer decided to slowly cross the road in front of me like a heard of cows. Sometimes they are at a safe distance from the road, and others they are standing in the road. Last night's deer was standing just on the edge of the road. I spotted him, he spotted me and all was good. I passed on by and he didn't run out in front of me. Luckily he was one of the ones that knew the pact. You don't run out in front of me, and I don't hit you. Most deer are familiar with the pact. But every once in a while you get a rebel, so I am always cautious.
So after the deer sighting I continue home. We turn down our street and Marc comments that there is now a speed limit sign. We both felt this is odd since our little development is only 2 small culdesac's, there isn't even enough space to get up that much speed. As we discuss this, I hit the garage door opener. As the door goes up I pull up slowly as I have perfected the timing of the door going up and me slowly entering without having to stop to wait for the door. Last night was no exception. So as I creep into the garage it happens. All of a sudden I hear a loud and long CRUUUNNNCCHHHH. I stop immediately and wonder what in the world I just ran over. I had completely forgotten about the bike on the roof rack. At this point Marc is yelling, "No the bike, back up". So I slowly back up a few feet so we can get our doors open. Marc gets out first. I can't move. I just sit there stunned. I can't believe I just did it. You always hear stories of cyclists that forget about their bike and run it into the garage. Everyone knows someone, if not several people that this has happened to. But you always think this will never happen to you. Well last night was my turn.
Marc gets out first. I ask, how bad is it, still paralyzed and unable to get out of the car to see for myself. Marc replies, "bad, really bad." I just look at him. We both can't believe what just happened.
I finally get up enough nerve to get out. I look and my knees go weak. Tears are brought to my eyes. My stomach instantly fills with acid.
Marc turns to me and says, "well I knew this would happen eventually". I was hoping later, than sooner.
We remove the rack and bike from the car by simply lifting the entire thing (bike and all) and just lay it on the ground as it had completely detached itself from the car on impact. I pull the car the rest of the way into the garage so we can more clearly survey the damage. There are dents and gouges and metal shavings and rubber scrapes and even some bike grease. I am just standing there in shock.
Marc trying to make light of the situation says, "this is what we have insurance for". I agree with him, but still I don't want to think about it.
I am still sick over this. I had a horrible time getting to sleep last night. I went out this morning and surveyed the damage in the daylight. Yup, still as bad as I remember. I was hoping that in the light of day it would somehow be better. My bike on the other hand is fine. Has some paint and wood chips on it from the trim around the garage door, but that's it. The trim has a little tiny dent in it. And the rack is fine. Unfortunately my car took the brunt of it. Today I will spend the day on the phone trying to figure out how to get it all fixed.