People Problems Part 1

Recently, the human species has just been constantly annoying me. I'm starting to prefer almost any other species. Like, dogs. Or rocks. Or...pillows. What's that? Pillows and rocks aren't species? I must assume you're an obnoxious human because, if I had a dog, it sure as hell wouldn't be criticizing my classification of beings on earth. It would be licking my face and trying to make me throw the tennis ball for the one hundred millionth time. I'm sure you cheated your way through one baby Biology or (dare I say) rocks for jocks science class in college and now you think you're a certified Einstein. Whatever. I like inanimate objects more than I like you anyway, remember.

The weird part is, I definitely consider myself a people person. Every time I take a personality assessment it's one thousand percent sure that I'm extroverted. Usually, it's not really certain about much else about me. But I get an A+ for being out-going. (Which is the politically correct way of saying "loud and obnoxious.") But lately, I've just had no patience with people. I'm trying to narrow it down to why, and I think it's all stemming from my commute to and from work.

I'm convinced that there are no driver's license tests in the state of Wisconsin. They simply make all their residents sign a binding contract agreeing to always drive 10 miles per hour below the speed limit. Which, I guess would be okay if people here followed what I assumed to be a basic driving commandment:

But apparently, although this concept prevails in the northeast, it's totally unacknowledged here. There is no concept of a passing lane.  The other day I was on a three lane highway and all three lanes had cars going 50 miles per hour. It was like they were holding hands through their windows and singing Kumbaya together. Which was cute and all except, I WAS TRYING TO GET SOMEWHERE. Which is usually what I'm doing when I'm driving. I'm starting to feel like I'm in the minority. At least gas is cheap.

I don't know who taught you to drive, but I distinctly remember my dad telling me, "Remember, Joyce, it ends in 5. So you always round up."

See? My engineer father was teaching me math and how not to be annoying at the same time.

I'm seriously considering writing a book called, "'If You're Driving 57 miles per hour Get the Hell out of the Passing Lane' and Other Pearls of Wisdom to live By." Either that or driving around holding up this sign: 

In conclusion, I think my commute is definitely one reason I'm generally becoming pretty irritable lately. Perhaps those of you who know me well found this post somewhat hypocritical because I'm not the world's best driver. But, seriously, I'm starting to think I'm one of the best drivers here. THAT'S THE PROBLEM. It's like that one bball season where for a time period I had the best free throw percentage on the team. We didn't exactly have a winning record.

But, honestly, most of my problems come with parking, curb hitting, backing in, three point turns, things like that. I'll admit that I may be in the running for world's worst parker. Even so, if I'm ever going 57 in the fast lane I give you full permission to never read one of my blog posts ever again. I'm sure my imaginary dog will continue to loyally follow me :)