When I took my high-flying new job, there was talk that my first assignment would be in either Houston or Northbrook. (As in Texas or Illinois.) I joked at the time that part of me would rather drive to O’Hare twice a week than Northbrook every day. OK, not just part. A big part. After more than six years of riding the train to work, I’d gotten incredibly spoiled by being able to leave my car at home.
But more than two months in, I’ve gotten considerably less whiny about the commute to the ‘burbs, and I find that the time on the road helps me wake up in the mornings and chill out in the evenings. (I got to hear a live performance from P!nk on the radio this morning, and it made the traffic jam totally worth it.)
No, it’s not the 30 minutes to an hour each way that’s troubling. It’s the absolutely insane itshay I see people doing while driving. I know it’s easy to slip into auto-pilot when you’re behind the wheel a lot, but people, you’re still hurtling down the highway in several tons of deadly metal.
I’ve seen women applying mascara, a guy eating a bowl of cereal (no joke) and countless people holding what appear to be iPads up to their heads. I’ve been passed by cars of teenagers with their legs dangling out of sunroofs (the passengers’ legs, I’m assuming) and watched as a semitrailer heading in the other direction flipped in slow motion like a Tonka truck with a BOOM that sent my heart racing.
It’s all made me more aware of what kind of driver I am. I’m not claiming that I don’t still do stupid things (who knew having a newspaper in the car with all 4 windows down at 70 mph was a bad idea?), but my days of emailing edits while on the expressway are over.
What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen a fellow driver do?
Yours in road rebellion,
Karen
