So my driving…definitely more of an art than a science, often imitated never duplicated, and possibly a metaphor that translates to other areas of my life.
Have you ever made a bad move while driving? Ever cut someone off, merged late, passed without fully looking? Maybe accidentally a handful of times you can count on one hand right. How about because this rare impulsivity of “just going for it,” followed by a quick recovery is as good of an outlet to the morning’s chaos as any? Probably not because you’re not an idiot. But let me tell you, consciously making a tactful yet fucked up move followed by the ever-forgiven, apologetic hand wave results in a serious dopamine boost.
Lets pretend for the purpose of this post that I’ve already dropped my kids off at daycare, and my commute to work is my one opportunity to maximize me-time, cope with the morning’s insanity, and take control of my life…add some speed, music and a vehicle, obviously it’s gonna be good…reeeealll good.
My mom says driving with me is “frightening.” Why thank you mom. I will take that as a compliment given my current routine, barely-making-it state of mind. In fact I will take your “frightening” and raise you “reckless.”
Judgements right? Well…like any good art piece, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
so here we go: I’ve dropped off my kids, I’m walking out of the daycare…alone (holy shit that feels good), and I stop for a moment to remember what I’m working with.
grey, dirty (washed twice a year) leased (because that seemed like a good idea at the time) 2013 Mazda3…hatchback. When I first got her I named her Sophia Grey, but now I think she’s more of a Grey, wait no, Ey; because what dirty already grey Mazda hatchback has time for that many letters? Not mine. I’ll save the interior for another day.
So me and Ey hit the road. Exiting the daycare I have two options: the longer route with more visibility for the inevitable left turn, or the one that’s slightly more efficient but very blind… “Let’s do this,” I think to myself as I creep half way into the street (I’ve almost been hit a handful of times making this turn, so at this point I’m basically an expert right?!). All clear from what I can tell (20 ft line of sight in either direction), annnnd…BOOM!
I make the turn. Just in time to be honked at by an encroaching SUV who I’ve unknowingly (kindof) cut off. Hand up…wave “Sorry!!!” I shrug and mouth like they can see my face. Adrenaline and intoxicating thoughts of “Fuck yeah snitches!! I’m a force to be wreckened with!! I’m a bad ass biatch!!!” and then all too soon “shit… this is awkward.”
At the next stop sign, traffic is bumper-to-bumper, and my new friend is right behind me, waiting for me to make what was once their right turn into heavy morning traffic. The tension is real.
More adrenaline as I look for a gap wide enough between cars so that I can turn without being followed longer than necessary by the current situation. All clear, I make my way down the hill, weaving traffic, speeding through yellow lights, passing in both lanes…this is living.
My “recklessness” continues…on side streets, highways, freeways, city streets, no discrimination here…until I arrive downtown. Nearing my workplace I turn down the music, take a deep, deeeep breath, and prepare myself for…the irony.