The cure for road rage is steaming hot water

Like every Monday for the past three weeks, I scrambled to get my laptop stuffed in it’s bag, my purse out of my cabinet, and my phone on make busy so I could rush out the door. Like every day of my life, I was running late.

I don’t get off work until 5:30. I have class at 6pm. And it’s a 45 minute drive from work to school. So every Monday (and Wednesday) I either leave work early or get to class late. This is the struggle I’ve faced many days over the last several years as I balance family, work, and school.

Today I was running out the door at 5:30. Today I was going to be late for school.

I flew down the interstate trying to stay sort of within the speed limit and yet speeding at the same time. It’s an art I’ve learned well.

I pulled in to the parkade, spiraled around to the 6th floor (I have no idea why it was so busy today), and finally found a spot. I rushed out of my truck and down the path on the way to my building.

The cold air inside Sheaffer Hall hit me square in the face as I ran through the door. I shuffled across the hall to my classroom. Swung open the door. And stopped dead in my tracks.

The room was completely empty. WTF?!?

I walked back in to the courtyard and called Lee. “Check my email. Is there an email from my teacher?” I asked. Nothing.

I checked our class website to see if he’d left some kind of message there. Nothing.

I was pissed. Dude, I drive 45 minutes to get to this stupid class. With gas prices teetering at just under $3.00 a gallon, driving 45 miles there and back for NOTHING makes me a little hot under the collar.

I huffed it back to my car, spiraled back down to the main floor to pay, and headed back home. Pissed.

As I exited the interstate near my house, I stopped behind a car at the red light. The light turned green but the car didn’t move. After a couple seconds I looked in the back window and saw the driver staring off to the right looking at the car next to him. So I honked my horn.

The driver was not pleased that I honked my horn. He looked in his rear view mirror at me. And I think I even saw him snear at me. Then he started moving forward. Slowly.

Seriously?!? Today?!? When I’m already pissed off. You want to play a game of chicken?!? Really?!?

He’s driving a little Chevy Lumina. I’m driving a big Chevy Tahoe. I give serious thought to throwing it in 4WD and driving up over the back of his trunk like a monster truck. But I remained calm.

He continued to drive slow all the way to the next light. I don’t normally have road rage. I gave up road rage for Lent several years ago when my kids were all young and it scared them when mommy was yelling out the window like a crazy person. But that rage? It was coming back today.

When we got near the light I slipped in to the turning lane on the right, leaned out my window and flipped that asshole off. I gave him the death stare, daring him to follow me. He chose not to. A wise choice my man.

When I got home I slipped out of my work clothes (jeans and a t-shirt…it’s a casual work environment), put on my tankini, and climbed in to the hot tub. The hot tub my husband just bought on Craiglist for $150. Dude, Craigslist rocks. That hot tub was so worth $150 and much more. ‘Cause the stress of the day has already been washed off.

Only four and a half more weeks of school.

Related posts:

1. Thoughts from the road I hate to
2. My 8am class is trying to kill me Is it just
3. Skipping school the hard way Today was
4. Stranded at Subway My friend
5. Get off your damn cell phone It’s

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