It’s not particularly fun to wake up at 4 am. It’s not particularly fun to have to leave for work at 5:15 am. About the only thing that is less fun is waking up at 3 am and leaving for work at 4:15 am. Daylight saving time, my ass! It wouldn’t be so bad if I could figure out how to change the clock in my car. I don’t really need to be reminded every morning that it is really 4:15, not 5:15. Talk about adding insult to injury. Worse is that it’s not even pretending to be dark out when I go to bed, which I also usually do at a ridiculously and obscenely early hour. Mitch Daniels has a lot to answer for.
Fucker.
Sometimes it’s depressing to be a tiny speck of pinko-blue swimming in a sea of red. I am finding this to be especially true at 3am.
Since I’m on the subject of things that make me cranky in the morning, I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss the accepted procedure for stopping at traffic lights and stop signs. I don’t know how they do things in Wisconsin, where Mr. CRV Driver is from, but here in Indiana we recommend stopping in front of the line. As in, all four tires of your car should not yet have crossed the aforementioned. That would be the exact opposite of having all four of your tires on the far side of the line. I’m just sayin’…
To the old dude who works for the parks department and drives a nearly invisible dark green Ford F-150, could you please either pick up the pace or stop driving on the bypass? Seriously. If you cannot go faster than 30mph, you really shouldn’t be driving where the speed limit is 55mph. I’ve almost rear-ended you multiple times, and I saw a gravel truck nearly go off the road this morning, trying to avoid flattening you.
To the person with the E tag who keeps snagging my parking spot: Are you made of money or something? How long do you intend to accumulate tickets, just so you can park in the A lot?
To the Herald Times delivery driver: What in the name of all that is holy do you think you’re doing? You do not (not!) deliver papers from the highway. This is the second time I’ve been stuck behind you as you’ve crept along, winging papers through the passenger side window onto the the ends of people’s driveways. Not cool.
That’s all from this week’s edition of the Rural Road Rage Diaries.
Oh, wait, I lie. There was one more. A red blinky light means S-T-O-P. It does not mean slow down a little bit. A blinky yellow light means slow down a bit, and proceed with care. Which is what I did, which is why I didn’t cream your ass when you barrelled through your blinky red light. Fuckwit.
red paper boat 