"Ummm... No... driving to work is."
Buuuzzzzzzzz ...
The clock reads 6:04 A.M.
Another day has dawned. I close my eyes and pretend it's only 4:06 and that I'm dyslectic. My eyes flicker open again and now the clock shows 6:08. Hummm . . . can't get off that easily.
Maybe I'll call in sick I think as I close my eyes again, the pillow warm against my face. A good idea, but thoughts of the things that need to get accomplished today - things I didn't finish yesterday - keep showing up - uninvited. And that hot wet sensation against my face I recognize - the dog knows I'm awake, can't fool her - and she wants to go out. With all things conspiring against me, I bury my face deep in my pillow. Without warning, my eyes pop open and a smile crosses my lips; sunshine. Bright sunshine streams through the windows into the room. Time to get up, I think as I hop out of bed and tromp downstairs to open the door for the dog... the clock long forgotten.
I prepare for work quickly, anticipation perhaps causing me to rush a little more than usual. I don't even stop to read the e-mail before heading out the door.
There she sits, gleaming in the filtered light from the garage windows. I washed and waxed her last night - simply because it was a warm summer evening and it was the thing to do - and she was ready. I pile into the driver's seat, open the garage door, and start her up - letting the slight rumbble of the exhaust wash over me before throwing her into reverse and backing out. We're on our way.
The sunshine lives up to it's billing. I don't know if I suffer from Seasonal Affects Disorder or not, but I do know my mood certainly picks up with the appearance of warm sunshine... and with the top down on the Z there's plenty of sunshine to be felt. What's really SAD is that somebody had to stick a name on it . . .
Driving has always been a pleasure for me. I enjoy the scenery and solitude afforded by the trip. Even the normally painful trek into work during the seven-o'clock rush hour can be pleasurable. Though conjestion abounds (we are in one of the most conjested and difficult-to-travel areas of the country), some days are better than others.
Today a tale of two commuters - I in the Z with the top down and the sun in my face, he in a Mitisubitshi SUV - both of us behind a double semi-trailer. I stay in the left lane; not moving and content to do seventy . . . he going across three lanes of traffic in the attempt to move ahead only to find himeself behind me time after time. The last time I saw him he was pounding his steering wheel.
Later, I pass a souped-out WRX with the driver also pounding his fists on the wheel - but his head is also bopping and I don't think he is the least bit aware of the world around him.
Of the two - I'd take the bebopping bouncer. He can be brought back to earth rather quickly. The pounder has already lost it.
It's a struggle against nature and happiness, but when I finally turn into the parking lot at work I have a smile on my face - at least until I get inside...
Oh... and I didn't see a single '55 Chevy all day.
