Every day, my commute to work is a bitch. It's long, it's slow, it's tiresome. This is compounded by the fact that I am not a morning person. Not being a morning person is made all the more frustrating by the fact that I can't but help waking up early. My morning routine consists of my alarm going off at 6:00, me groaning and then glaring at it like it killed my family.
Note: I hate my alarm clock more than anything in this universe. More than George Bush. More than racism. I hate it with the fire of a million hells.
Then I stagger out of bed, walk/fall down the stairs, let the dogs out, feed them, let them out again, and then stumble into the shower. Showering consists of standing under scalding hot water until I remember that I'm there for a reason. On the days when I shave it's always a coin toss whether or not I come out looking smooth and clean, or looking like I got mauled in the face by wolverines. Then comes the complicated process of getting dressed. Not because I'm a clothes horse, but because I'm not actually conscious yet. So I'll sometimes spend 10 minutes simply standing in front of my closet, as if it will provide the keys to the universe if I wait long enough. I'm worthless. Sometimes my wife needs to remind me to put on pants. I'm not kidding.
As a random aside, here's a list of things I've done while getting ready in the morning:
- Left the house without shoes
- Walked into a door while brushing my teeth
- Taken a 20 minute shower, gotten out, dried off, and realized I never actually used soap or shampoo
- Put hair gel on my toothbrush
- Fallen asleep in the shower (standing up), resulting in me hitting my head on the wall when my knees buckled.
It's important to note that I don't think I actually, technically wake up until around mile 7.
My commute usually consists of driving between 5 and 15 miles per hour for about an hour and 15 minutes. During that time, I listen to either a) sports radio if I can find them discussing something tolerable, b) NPR, or c) music at deafening volumes. All the while, my fellow drivers are either in the same zombie-like state as I, or they drive like complete assholes, thinking if they cut people off and whip in and out of lanes, they'll shave 30 seconds off their commuting time. It bugs the hell out of me. Look, I'm all for driving fast when it's practical. But at 7:30 in the morning in Boston rush-hour traffic, you need to simply accept your fate and suck it up.
Anyway, on to the purpose of the story. Every morning I get to the final intersection near my office, where there are giant signs that say NO LEFT TURN. NO LEFT TURN, people.
Because, if you were to try to turn left, you would back up traffic in both directions. It's simply too busy an intersection. So of course, every goddamn motherfucking morning, some slack-jawed fuck-for-brains tries to turn left. People beep, they lean on their horns, pedestrians point to the signs, to no avail. The usual result is the six or seven people who would make the light if the turner wasn't a complete 'tard, don't make the light.
It happened again today. The cab driver in front of me (I fuckin' HATE cab drivers) tried to take a left. From the right lane. Blocked up traffic in both directions. And then, gloriously, a patrol car watched the whole thing. I saw the cop in the car watch, smile an evil little grin, then whip a U-turn and pull the fucker over. Justice, for once, was served. It reminded me of this:
Courtesy of malfunction junction
It truly is the little things in life sometimes.