I'm driving. STOP! Driving again. STOP! Oh traffic light how you trouble me so. It's like you've planned it on the corner of San Jose and Baymeadows. I try to go fast but you make me go slow.
Driver in front of me driving 35 in a 45. Do you have nowhere to go? Are you Sunday driving on a Wednesday afternoon? Get out of my way Sunday driver. I'm always in a hurry and I'm obsessed with time. You can waste your own but don't waste mine. Then again it's not your responsibility. Maybe I should have left earlier. Maybe you should go just a little bit faster. I can always go around but my blind side is clear with congestion. Snot. Snot. Snot. The End.
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