Have a Nice Day. Somewhere Else.

OK, I know you must have had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. So did I. I should have left 10 minutes earlier than I did, so I know the feeling. Your mind is kind of hazy as you merge onto the 405 in stop-and-go traffic. You must be alert and with it to some degree, I figure, because you take the extra effort to pass a number of cars on the right shoulder before merging in front of me. So I let you in. I figure you're motivated to get where you need to be in a hurry if you're riding the shoulder. And I don't want to be an asshole or anything, after all, there has been a rash of freeway shootings lately. Don't want to chance it.

BUT THEN, your mind turns OFF. All motivation you had to get to your crummy job has suddenly left the planet. You are now incapable of keeping up with the 20 MPH crawl. Old women in walkers are now cutting in front of you like you're their bitch. And I'm stuck behind you.

Mind you, I'm not in that much of a rush to get to work, hell, it's not like I'm a bikini inspector at the brewery or anything. But dammit, YOU are now wasting MY time. WTF? You're not even on the phone! (Don't get me started on that.)
Uh-oh. I'm getting a little too close to your bumper, and you happen to come out of you coma long enough to accidentally look in you rear-view mirror. Now it's a game. No brake lights, however, you just ease off the gas. Shit. Can't get around you, traffic in the next lane is doing 80. I hit my brakes while noticing the scowl on th e guy behind me. Somehow he's able to get over.

Sigh. I realize that I've just given you all control of my thoughts and emotions. I hate not having control. Funny how I can give it up so easily.

After that realization, it gets less interesting than this rant has been so far. I wait for an opening in the next lane, which seemed to take until Wednesday. Freedom at last. I cut you off just to make a point. You have no more control over me. Or do you?