Well.... except for when it comes to driving. I've never been a crazy person when driving. I mean, I definitely take after my family's habit of
The trouble is, I don't just have the urge to cuss at people anymore. It seems that I now have the impulse to directly confront strangers. This is not good. A) I don't work out as much as I used to. I'm not sure I can physically fight people who are more than 100 lbs or younger than 65 and B) What kind of example is that to set for my daughter? Do I really want my behavior to resemble that of the people illustrated on www.peopleofwalmart.com? Not really. Plus, despite my lack of fashionable attire, it has not reached the horrid depths of wearing nothing but a sports bra on top or metallic leggings:
At this point, I am crazily flailing my arms around, swearing, and flipping him off. I never flip people off. I fear it due to working in questionable areas of Toledo for almost five years and envisioning someone shooting me for one poorly thought out gesture. Move me out to a rural area though, and I lose my fear. I seriously considered following him into the parking lot to ask him exactly how important it was for him to rush to the golf course when he could have hit me and injured my then six month old baby. Possibly after I had pulled her out of her car seat, waving her in his face so he could see exactly how incredibly adorable and sweet she is, and also so he would be less likely to tell me what a b*tch I'm being right to my face. However, I was running late to step aerobics, and considering that I still have ten pounds of pregnancy weight to lose, that was more important. Maybe next time.
The second close call occurred last Friday. See photographic evidence of stupidity below:
I considered these three choices: 1) Leave him a note asking him where he learned to park, if he ever considers other people when making choices, and how he would feel if this had been done to him-- possibly with some bad language thrown it. 2) WAIT for him to come out of the store and angrily express what I had thought about writing. 3) Slam my door into his car a few good times so he has a visual reminder of what happens when you park too close to others. This was my most tempting option. Our car is used, getting up there in mileage, and damaged on the right side, so what do I care if it gets a little more damage, particularly to prove a point?
For various reasons, I did none of those things. Instead, I sucked my tummy in and scooched into my seat, of course while muttering obscenities. All in all, I think I've made wise choices in these recent situations, but clearly I need a plan to keep my sanity while sharing the road with these idiots.
This may be my solution: