First of all, every morning starts with eco-environmental guilt now. Fuel is expensive, toll-roads expensive. And then, current read being ‘the consumers guide to effective environmental choices’, I keep imagining the amount of emission I must produce in that 40 minute drive to campus. And back.
Second of all, I have a bad tendency to speed, out of pleasure. Today, having calculated the distance between the car I wanted to overtake and the car blocking my front, I swerved right, only to be forced to swerve left again because, apparently, the overtakee refused to be overtaken. *bastard*. Sandwiched between two cars by an inch, in the middle of two lanes, at 80 km/hour on the highway, I displayed my middle finger to overtakee, who calmly sped on. Then I thought well, it could’ve been my fault. Later on, I got caught in a lane-war with a bus. Being hateful of stopping behind busses, I sped up to squeeze into the lane the bus was trying to get into, a la previously-mentioned overtakee. But the bus elegantly shoved its butt in and grazed my bumper. The second time my middle finger displayed it’s futile self, but after some thought, it could’ve been my own reckless fault. Meanwhile, the fuel tank is low, again. *sigh*
Driving ain’t what it seems. It’s a friggin’ war out there, accompanied with all kinds of guilt.
Second of all, I have a bad tendency to speed, out of pleasure. Today, having calculated the distance between the car I wanted to overtake and the car blocking my front, I swerved right, only to be forced to swerve left again because, apparently, the overtakee refused to be overtaken. *bastard*. Sandwiched between two cars by an inch, in the middle of two lanes, at 80 km/hour on the highway, I displayed my middle finger to overtakee, who calmly sped on. Then I thought well, it could’ve been my fault. Later on, I got caught in a lane-war with a bus. Being hateful of stopping behind busses, I sped up to squeeze into the lane the bus was trying to get into, a la previously-mentioned overtakee. But the bus elegantly shoved its butt in and grazed my bumper. The second time my middle finger displayed it’s futile self, but after some thought, it could’ve been my own reckless fault. Meanwhile, the fuel tank is low, again. *sigh*
Driving ain’t what it seems. It’s a friggin’ war out there, accompanied with all kinds of guilt.
