Showing posts with label road rage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label road rage. Show all posts

Monday, February 6, 2012

how to get through a Monday morning

 Hit snooze only once for best results.
 
Pad toward bathroom in complete dark so as not to disturb sleeping boyfriend.
 
Start shower water. Brush teeth while it warms.
 
Ease into water. Keep it colder than enjoyable to stymie possibility of taking any longer than humanly necessary. Ponder rapidly disintegrating fucked-up dreams. Decide they're too weird to share with anyone today.
 
Moisturize. Moisturize like crazy. Fret over impending wrinkles. Deny, deny deny.
 
Check facebook/email. But just skim. You don't have time for this.
 
Blow dry hair. Ugh. Get tired/bored of blow drying hair. Put shirt in dryer. Finish blow drying *(#&$ing thick hair.
 
Start your car appox. 7 minutes prior to departure to work, via remote.
 
Grab successfully dewrinkled shirt out of dryer and choose one of 6 actually cleaned, actually hanging-up pairs of work pants. Silently thank yourself for cleaning your room on Friday evening. Curse yourself for not washing undergarments. Scavenge around for a suitable bra. Settle on a least favorite. Feel sense of pride at clean pants vaporize at prospect of wearing a shitty bra.
 
Decide against rooting around for breakfast, no time thanks to the damn bra debacle.
 
Rush outside and discover every window on your vehicle is still covered in a thin but determined layer of frost. Fuck! It wasn't on defrost. Damn it. Turn on defrost. Grab first sturdy flat thing out of purse and begin scraping violently at each window. Realize it's your debit card. Shrug and resume scraping, you don't have any money to spend with card for the next week anyway, it may as well be physically useful.
 
Ease car into the drive. Avoid stopping where not absolutely necessary. Shoot gaps where possible. Dig through bag until mascara is located. Apply at any reasonable time. Ie: various states of stopping and moving.
 
Get first decent look at the bobby-pin job you did this morning on bangs in rear-view mirror. Wince.
 
Re-administer bobby pins three times while simultaneously merging, changing radio station/volume, and answering phone.
 
Redirect attention toward insufficient use of mascara.
 
Greet boyfriend via phone. Go through various stages of morning conversation.
 
Mutter 'What the fuck?' several times at asinine/slow drivers.
 
Perkily answer, 'Nothing!" when asked what you just said by boyfriend. You're working on your attitude.
 
Curse at dropped call at the same spot it happens every morning. Check clock. Brood over a three minute period of time loss caused by missing a green arrow. 
 
Dramatically croon along to "Black Balloon"
 
 
Intermittently continue to apply mascara.
 
Exclaim "I lost you!" when boyfriend calls again. Silently curse out piece of shit phone.
 
Get in right lane to exit highway. Bitch about the half mile stretch spent going 60mph due to "Slow ass mother fucker. "
 
Spritz yourself with scent. Hang up phone.
 
Ease faster than really safe onto the street where your office is located.
 
Scan parking lot as you whip into your spot.
 
Realize your bosses car is missing. Watch hopes fly instantly higher than safe. Feel altitude sickness take hold from said hopes shooting through the roof.
 
Greet coworkers with "Where is _____?" (boss)
 
Exchange pleasantries. Learn of unreported Drs appt.
 
Silently thank universe for a brief extension from boss-induced stress.
 
Turn on computer.
 
Walk downstairs while it boots up. Scrounge around for stray food items/pour first cup of coffee.
 
Welcome to your work week.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

driving home.

Sometimes it's necessary to drive practically bludgeon your way ahead of all the other cars to get home as quickly as possible after work. Or, if you're me, you do that every single day, regardless of any real urgency to get home.  This ordeal makes relaxing upon arrival a long and somewhat arduous task, because I key myself up to the point of actually flipping out over someone failing to signal when changing lanes.


I mean, I really, really hate it when people don't use their turn signal. It's DEFINITELY one of the top five things that get under my skin- and to be completely honest, probably one of the least shallow.


I'm not always so rage-filled and anxiety-ridden in the car. I'll never pretend to be an above-average driver, but I can at least say with confidence that the vast majority of the time that I find myself behind the wheel, I'm not an asshole.


But when I'm coming home from work, a time that should be spent unwinding and getting all the clutter of my workday out of my mind so that I can arrive home relaxed to enjoy the people and things in my life with whom I actually get to choose to spend my free time.
Not so much.


You see, I usually arrive home in a mental state that can similarly be depicted by this google image find:


Right, looking like a total babe.






A total babe that's PRIMED AND TOTALLY READY TO PULL A BRITNEY SPEARS CIRCA 2007,  ALL UP OVER MY HOME AND ALL THE NEIGHBORING BUILDINGS.


not *exactly* the 'look' i'm going for these days. sorry, brit.




But seriously, I need to chill out. I've been really thinking about the things that I let get me all worked up and bent out of shape lately that are NOT WORTH IT- And my commute is one of those things. It sets the tone for my day and it sets the tone for my night.


So, I'm not really sure how this goes, but I've got the goal at hand:


Seriously chill out during my hellish commute time so that I don't feel the compulsion to chug an entire of Pinot Greege as soon as I collapse into the door.




Wooooo, red. Feisty, I like it.

Relaxing music? A more scenic route? A repeated/chanted mantra? All probably very likely. Since  I don't smoke anymore, and drinking wine and driving is frowned upon in modern society, I've got to find some other way to relax while driving to and from work.  

You know, enjoying the ride and all that uplifting crap.


I honest-to-god believe that this one little improvement in my life will make me a much happier and altogether more enjoyable person to be around. AHHHH, growth. So, tonight on my drive home I not let myself fuss and fight with the other drivers. I will instead send peaceful vibes into the Universe and sing along to my music and realize that my home will still be there, even if it takes me two minutes longer than usual to make it to the little cement patch my car calls home. I can chill; I can be cool as a motherfucking cucumber.


Unless someone makes the crucial mistake of failing to signal, that's one thing that will take a lot of practice to forgive.




I'm just hoping that one day I won't have to get behind the wheel AT ALL to get to work- until then, just stay out of my way.


XO Sare