A friendly note

Dear drivers in the greater St. Louis area,

I don't like you. I've never liked you. 70% of you have no idea how to operate the piece of machinery you own. That percentage increases to approximately 90% the moment a flake of snow hits the ground. Don't get me wrong--I appreciate the fact that you (well, most of you) make an attempt to drive safely when road conditions get not-so-good. But honestly, driving 20 mph on the highway does more harm than good, especially when those semis are whipping past you at a toasty 40 mph.

You'll probably point out that I complain when you drive fast. And I do. Because when you drive inordinately fast, it makes me feel like an unwilling extra in The Fast and the Furious 2: Suburban Bugaloo. And yes, I realize that my complaining becomes hypocritical at some point.

Basically, what I'm saying is that I hate you. You will never manage to drive in a way that doesn't make me want to jab you in the neck with a grapefruit spoon. I know this makes no sense. But I thought you'd like to know anyway.

You loved me to pieces.

Like Liz, I'm reasonably sure that one of my parents have found this website. Well, I assume as much, because my dad was recently introduced to the wonder that is googling people, and I'm sure he immediately found all of my old posts to listservs I quit five years ago, and this website. So welcome, Dad. And I'm sorry for all the swearing. It just comes out sometimes.

So the illness that I mentioned in the last post ballooned into a full-fledged, hate-myself-and-my-body sickness. I actually got sick enough to call in sick to work on Monday--marking the first time I ever called in sick to the camera store. EVER. That was a point of pride for me for a while. Sure, I may always be late for work. Sure, even when I'm at work, I will waste as much time as possible. These may be true. But at least I showed up. And now I can't say that anymore.

I don't think I'm sick anymore. I think. I hope.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go buy the new Crooked Fingers album and drive around for a while.

Today also marked the moment that occurs every month or so when I realize that if I keep up my current rate of correspondence with others, I will quickly be left with no one with whom to correspond. I still have no idea why I do this.