Why do some people get so agitated while driving? Why does traffic make people insane? Why is there such a thing as road rage? I don't get it. Sure I get mad at the guy who doesn't signal and almost kills me, but the every day stuff is petty stuff. And we know not to sweat that, don't we?
I'm talking about the people who set off to work in the morning and get stuck in traffic every day. Why are they yelling at me. I didn't know I was dozing off in the middle of two lanes. They get stuck in traffic all the time and still go crazy. Then they yell at a person who is probably out of sight distance like it matters. Or people who get crazy because they have been in the car longer than they wanted to be, all because they made the left instead of the right at exit 7. Hey Mapquest, Fuck You!
I relish this time. In the car, all alone, cold drink in my hand (iced coffee thank you). I've got the radio on, singing like I think I can. I do a mean Michael Buble in the car. Or maybe it's the silence, just me and my thoughts. There are no kids screaming, no nagging significant others, no bosses, no phones ringing. Just me, my car and some blacktop. This is my time. I enjoy every second of it. I pass by an old lady and think about my grandmother and how crazy she is. I see a teenage kid and wonder what his weekend has in store for him. I see a trucker and imagine the tales he has to tell of distant cities and the ones he's met along the way. I see a family and think back to my own childhood and our excursions. I see a young girl, one foot on the gas, one out the window and I think about how flexible she is and, nevermind.
I'm not always flying around doing 85, sometimes I'm stuck in traffic. I'm listening to others yell, others scream. I watch their faces contort like slugs covered in salt. They look at me as if to ask "what the fuck are you so happy about?" I think to myself. I'm alone with my thoughts, my dreams, my tone def voice and the idea that there are so many worse situations I can be in. Then I smile. Maybe even give them a wink. They stop, mouth agape and then let me know that I am one finger away from being #1.
I'm talking about the people who set off to work in the morning and get stuck in traffic every day. Why are they yelling at me. I didn't know I was dozing off in the middle of two lanes. They get stuck in traffic all the time and still go crazy. Then they yell at a person who is probably out of sight distance like it matters. Or people who get crazy because they have been in the car longer than they wanted to be, all because they made the left instead of the right at exit 7. Hey Mapquest, Fuck You!
I relish this time. In the car, all alone, cold drink in my hand (iced coffee thank you). I've got the radio on, singing like I think I can. I do a mean Michael Buble in the car. Or maybe it's the silence, just me and my thoughts. There are no kids screaming, no nagging significant others, no bosses, no phones ringing. Just me, my car and some blacktop. This is my time. I enjoy every second of it. I pass by an old lady and think about my grandmother and how crazy she is. I see a teenage kid and wonder what his weekend has in store for him. I see a trucker and imagine the tales he has to tell of distant cities and the ones he's met along the way. I see a family and think back to my own childhood and our excursions. I see a young girl, one foot on the gas, one out the window and I think about how flexible she is and, nevermind.
I'm not always flying around doing 85, sometimes I'm stuck in traffic. I'm listening to others yell, others scream. I watch their faces contort like slugs covered in salt. They look at me as if to ask "what the fuck are you so happy about?" I think to myself. I'm alone with my thoughts, my dreams, my tone def voice and the idea that there are so many worse situations I can be in. Then I smile. Maybe even give them a wink. They stop, mouth agape and then let me know that I am one finger away from being #1.
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