To Number 1:
Thank you for reintroducing myself to myself. I had forgotten. Also, thank you for introducing me to Malbec wines.
To Number 2:
Thank you for reminding me of simple activities that can bring me inner peace. I had been missin' that fishin'.
To Number 3:
Thank you for letting me be me. And for teaching me the trick to napping. I am now a napping whore who naps on the weekends all the time. It's delightful.
Fingers crossed that next year there is only a Number 1. And that I will not be inspired to write a silly little year in review to remind myself that more than 1 is ok, even if it's not ideal.
I meant for this to sound nice, not annoyed. I think I diverted from my intent.
Opps.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
My Favourite Driving Technique
I wouldn't say that I am a terrific driver, but I'm certainly not a bad driver. Perhaps I feel that I am a better driver than many people out there on the road.
I would definitely say that I am a confident driver.
I would also say that I am a driver who happens to experience road rage on the odd occasion. And by odd occasion I mean quite often. *averted gaze*
Yesterday as I was driving to work, the car behind me was driving precariously close to my tail end. So close, in fact, that I could determine the colour of the driver's eyeshadow by looking my rear view mirror. As we encroached a small town I dropped my speed accordingly, as did the driver behind me.
Yet she did not ease off. My road rage started to simmer at the surface. I muttered at her to get off my tail. Obviously, she did not hear me asking her to give some space between us. I tapped my brakes a couple times, in the hope that this little signal would relay the message.
No such luck.
The simmer turned to boil.
I pursed my lips. I flared my nostrils.
I employed my favourite driving technique for tailgaters.
I slammed on my brakes enough to decrease my speed 20 kms/hr in an flash.
Tee hee.
I saw the look of surprise cross the face of the driver behind me as she came even closer to my tail lights, her eyes widen with panic at the thought of hitting me.
I sped back up to my 55 kms/hr, and watched her slow her pace, growing the gap between us to a more than reasonable distance.
Sigh. My road rage started to subside. I happily motored on.
It's a great trick, I tell ya. Of course, I'm sure one day it will backfire on me and I'll actually get rear ended, but until then...it's so much fun to see those faces of shock in my rear view mirror!
I would definitely say that I am a confident driver.
I would also say that I am a driver who happens to experience road rage on the odd occasion. And by odd occasion I mean quite often. *averted gaze*
Yesterday as I was driving to work, the car behind me was driving precariously close to my tail end. So close, in fact, that I could determine the colour of the driver's eyeshadow by looking my rear view mirror. As we encroached a small town I dropped my speed accordingly, as did the driver behind me.
Yet she did not ease off. My road rage started to simmer at the surface. I muttered at her to get off my tail. Obviously, she did not hear me asking her to give some space between us. I tapped my brakes a couple times, in the hope that this little signal would relay the message.
No such luck.
The simmer turned to boil.
I pursed my lips. I flared my nostrils.
I employed my favourite driving technique for tailgaters.
I slammed on my brakes enough to decrease my speed 20 kms/hr in an flash.
Tee hee.
I saw the look of surprise cross the face of the driver behind me as she came even closer to my tail lights, her eyes widen with panic at the thought of hitting me.
I sped back up to my 55 kms/hr, and watched her slow her pace, growing the gap between us to a more than reasonable distance.
Sigh. My road rage started to subside. I happily motored on.
It's a great trick, I tell ya. Of course, I'm sure one day it will backfire on me and I'll actually get rear ended, but until then...it's so much fun to see those faces of shock in my rear view mirror!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)