As I noted yesterday, I dropped Gracie off at the vet's this morning to have her butt shaved and then I drove into work. The vet's office is ten minutes from the office, forty minutes later I was pulling into the parking lot. Seems they are trimming trees along the main road to get the overhanging branches cleared away prior to winter. That's a good thing to do, but it backed traffic up worse than a snowstorm.
The office building is on a little side street off the main road. Coming up to the turnoff, I figured I could just scoot down the shoulder and make the turnoff.
Wrong.
Some cranky blonde bitch in a Ford sedan was sitting with half her car in the shoulder to keep people from doing that. There were two other cars ahead of me and three behind, all wanting to make that turn, which that skank was stopping us from doing. We had to wait about five minutes until she moved far enough down the road to clear the intersection.
I wanted to beat her into a coma with an entrenching tool. Just for fun.
So, after work, when I'm making the (thankfully) short drive to pick up my cat, I'm telling the story to a friend. She said: "Clearly you have anger management issues."
To which I said: "No, I don't. I managed my anger just fine. I didn't beat her into a greasy spot on the pavement."
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