no cars go...literally.

In the last week, I have driven to Redlands two times, once to make Christmas candy with my mom and sisters and another for a business meeting. The drive isn't terribly far (65 miles or so) and I don't mind an hour and a little more of driving in the car, but when there is traffic, I lose it. Honest to goodness, lose it. Nothing can console me, my natural woman just takes over! This is what happens: Hugh Hewitt's good words start making me angry. The car in front of me with the ridiculous flashing brake lights makes my blood boil. My favorite music can't even calm my soul and I LOVE music. Kent ends up thinking he married a crazy person because I send him 5 billion texts about how bad traffic is and how horrible interchanges are. I think I've even pounded my feet (at least foot) on the ground like a 3 year old girl. It is pathetic.

Unfortunately, on both of my trips I happened to leave Redlands at 5pm to return back to Long Beach, and I had places to be at 7pm. What was I thinking? I know better than that. I broke three very important rules to drive by in southern California:

1. Only drive on the freeways between the hours of 10am-2pm or 8pm-4am.
2. Avoid the 91 at all costs.
3. Tack on a 30 minute cushion for getting somewhere.

Really, those rules are important for my well-being because I become a different person, kind of like Mr. Walker/Mr.Wheeler in Motor Mania. Do you remember this cartoon? Goofy, who I think is a dog (I've never been quite sure about that), really does personify the 'angry driver' well. I don't try to take out pedestrians like he does, but I can relate to almost every issue in this short sketch. Here's to learning some patience before I do something rash while driving Floyd (our car).