Commuting is an adventure. Traffic volume was remarkably low, given the potential. Brewgal’s time was 35 minutes today. Not too bad for a 14 mile run in the Washington DC area. Mondays can be quite bad. Thursday is the absolute worst day. My opinion is that everyone who wants to take Friday off comes in on Thursday to make up for it.
Commuting highlights for today included a van who seemed to be allergic to going the speed limit, a contractor truck blocking the turn lane into my campus with guys standing around IN THE LANE without warning cones or signs (that behavior will get you killed, y’all), and an 18-wheeler pulling out in front of me. Buses do this to me with alarming regularity too. Why me? Do I have a big “pull out in front of my shiny red SUV” sticker on my grille?
Slowly, ponderously, the truck pulled out into traffic, blocking first my lane then all three lanes southbound. Eeek! I slammed on my brakes and leaned on the horn, praying that the idiot who had been weaving in and out between cars a minute earlier would be attentive enough to not crash into the backside of my car. I lost my first beloved Volvo, Helen, to a rear-end crash by a teen driver. I’d hate to lose two Volvos the same way.
No crash. Good. Narrowly missing a street sign in the median, the truck moved through the intersection, put two wheels up and over the opposite curb, and lumbered on its way.