Ah, No not another red light! With everything in me I hold back my urge to push the peddle to the floor when it switches shinning green. All the sudden I am in a Nascar race internally mapping out the quickest and most direct route to weave between all the cars like it will get me there on time.
I hate being late. I always leave with extra time... ok almost always. There are specific times that I leave knowing I will be late when meeting people who are chronically late, you know who you are and I love you! I hate those specific times when something goes wrong, your shoe breaks right as you go to leave, there is a fender bender further up the road which people must see, you get the idea. It is at those times that I feel ready to boot up, get my gear on and put on my racing helmet cause gosh darnit I will get "there" on time.
Do you ever get this feeling? Is it inate in all? Are we all just one too many stoplights from going Danica Patrick?
My husband thinks I am insane which I can't really say much cause I am... at least a little bit ;P Chris is even keeled when it comes to driving. He doesn't speed (5-9 over max). He doesn't often go through yellow lights (though I have tried to pull him to the dark side). He lets people who shouldn't drive merge (another soap box for anther day: merging is a lost art that isn't taught and it makes me die a little on the inside... ok well at least not happy ;P) You get this picture of my husband driving, so for him when I want to throw on my Go Daddy racing helmet tries to calmly tell me that I am reacting in a slightly more than reasonable way = over reaction. To which I do not respond sweetly to... my inner being goes, "oh, you wanna see over reaction!" Now blessing to me Chris is very sweet and generally, after some time, I pull up the lead that is my foot.
Insane I know. Any one else insane?