Murphy's Commute

Talk about should have stayed in bed. First off, I was late getting the honyocks to school because of a battery.

The dial clock in the living room is the only one I can ever trust because Mo's compulsive clock-poking has all the digital clocks hours ahead. The kid can't abide an un-flipped calendar on the first of the month, but she can't resist setting a clock ahead of the actual time.

So the clock in the living room said it was 7:40, and I gave the kids and the dog their meds, got the dog set up outside with food and water, and as I was getting in the car, Em looked at her cell phone and said, 'It's 8:02.'

8:03 according to my car's clock. Really?



Maybe if the battery hadn't been dying in the living room clock (which was barely ticking when I got home, and hours behind) my commute would have made up for the ten minute setback.



As it is, it cued me up perfectly for the Mother of Gridlock. Right about the time it was too late to peel off on 119th, I-35 just froze up. Nothing moved for the longest time, not counting emergency vehicles with sirens going up the shoulder, down the ramp, in the grass. A fire truck, ambulances, cops, lots of cops.



Tuned in to the radio, and it sounded like they said a four car accident in the center lane right before I-435 was the cause.



Almost an hour later, but only a mile closer to work, I saw a fire truck on the shoulder by a car that didn't appear to be in the accident, and a car that was not in the center lane, but in the far left lane that was seriously fucked up. Debris on the shoulder, still plenty of cops around, but I guess the ambulances were all on their way and I guess some tow trucks.



There's a special kind of tired when it takes almost two hours to get to work. Sitting in the car, listening to audio books and the radio, feeling trapped and then feeling guilty because you know there are some people just up the road who's day is going way, way worse than yours.