Welp, Friday, actually. But it’s my Monday, and I’m at work this fine day. As I drove in this morning, the sky was a deep dark blue/purple, a smudged bruise. It’s what I imagine the sky looks like before snow. Except, of course, this is the Bay Area, and all we’ve had recently is some damned good rain. That heavy, wool-coat soaking kind of rain that’s fun to run through, not so fun to hail a cab in. *
Driving to work this morning, however, I wondered AGAIN why people feel it’s okay to come up on your a$$ at ninety,** slam on the brakes (because you’re only doing seventy-five) and swerve around you, almost clipping your bumper and causing the next lane to slam on their collective brakes. My time, the way I figure it, is just not as precious to me as theirs is to them. I hang back, willing to get there when I get there, and I don’t understand their mentality. I don’t understand how angry they get at the space I’m leaving between me and and the car in front of me. It’s like a personal affront. So they near-miss me, go around, wedge themselves in the gap I’ve left, and then do it all over to the new car in front of them, their new problem on the road.
I like to drive. I like to zen the traffic. I wish THAT were part of the driver’s training these days: How to relax when cut-off. How to keep your middle finger on the steering wheel at all times. How to leave the house a little early to account for traffic. How to sing really super loudly and groove your head and make everyone think you’re on meds (but really good ones).
Knitting content: Working on BonneMarie’s ribby cardie in Jo Sharp Silkroad (a tweedy red), and it’s working up fast, just the way I like. Pics over the weekend (not sure if I mean my weekend or yours, but I like the vagueness). Also working Christmas gifts, but hey, who isn’t?
* I just like the way Em does this and I’m copying.
** I have no idea why it was okay for me to write fuc(wad yesterday and today I’m having issues with ass — mood-bleeps, I suppose.
Get a Free Short Story!
Subscribe to get a free copy of Socks for Alex, a Cypress Hollow Short Story, compatible with all devices!