Driving Temper
I inherited a temper. At least, that’s my family’s belief—we pass these traits along genetically. I try using my mettle for good, but sometimes, annoyance gets the better of me. And, dammit, I can come out looking the fool.
It was an odd evening. I was exhausted, and finally, I was on the way home after my therapy appointment. Work days are long, but after-work appointments are good for me. I left my session at six o’clock and went 91st Street from Memorial to Sheridan. At Sheridan, something happened. I’m not sure if the driver thought I cut them off when I turned towards 81st or thought I was going too slow, but that short little mile until I got to Walmart pharmacy, he was on my tail and flashing his lights. At first, I thought it was a cop. It startled me. When I realized it wasn’t an officer, only an A-hole, I didn’t care anymore.
EAT IT DUDE—CARS ARE IN FRONT OF ME!!!! And all of that!!! Yeah, my attitude needs work to let this stuff roll off. When I’m tired, it is so much more challenging and seems to happen too frequently.