Last weekend, I made the biggest online purchase of my life thus far. The number in the subtotal column was equivalent to several days of work, and when I clicked the submit button I crossed my fingers hoping my debit card wouldn't blow up because WHOA BOY, the purchase price was unprecedented. A few days later I arrived home from work to see that my order had finally arrived.
Here is where I wish I could tell you that what was delivered to my doorstep was a diamond encrusted tiara a la Kate Middleton, or perhaps a designed purse made out of snakeskin. If there's one thing in this world I love, it's a purse made out of faux reptile skin. Classy.
Sadly, what actually arrived what this...
With the combination of a much longer commute and the approaching winter season, Old Blue needed some new tires. So I bit the bullet and bought these, since I would hate to face a snow covered commute with anything less than SUPERB TRACTION AND CORNERING STABILITY.
Even though I'm not one hundred percent clear on what cornering stability is. I just know I want it.
The tires are being installed tomorrow, so on Tuesday you better believe I will be burning (brand new, expensive) rubber. Speaking of cars and long commutes, I have started listening to the traffic report each morning and evening. I feel like that is a requirement for driving on the highway at rush hour. Sometimes I sit at red lights and look at the business people in the cars all around me with serious expressions on their faces and blackberries attached to their ears. And it is that moment I know for certain that I am the only person in the line of traffic listening to Flo Rida.
So, in the interest of appearing just as serious as my fellow commuters, I turn on the AM news station for "Traffic and Transit, on the Twos" to check in on the status of my homeward route. But here's the thing. I only know one way home, which means that if that was is backed up, and the friendly traffic reporter suggests taking an alternate route, I wouldn't be able to. I have a habit of getting lost, and it certainly doesn't help that the roads here are called 76, 276, 476, and 676.
APPARENTLY SOMEONE FORGOT TO BRING THEIR ORIGINALITY TO WORK ON HIGHWAY NAMING DAY.
The bottom line is that it's rush hour in the suburbs of a large city, so it pretty much looks like this every day.