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.