When It Rains, It Pours (In My Soul)

Well, the rain finally stopped and my Tuesday morning commute to work was pleasant and bright.

My Tuesday evening commute from work, however, was a traffic nightmare. A trip that usually takes me a half hour to forty-five minutes took over TWO HOURS, with no apparent explanation.

This happened again on Wednesday. I left work at 5 so I could get home in time to make and eat dinner and then leave for my class at 7.

I arrived at class, directly from work, at 7:45.

Here are my thoughts when it takes me two and a half hours to travel twelve miles:

5:05: Hmm. There sure are a lot of cars on the road today.
5:06: Maybe I shouldn't have had that Diet Coke right before I left...
5:10: There are a lot of cars on the road, and none of them are moving.
5:11: I wish I hadn't chosen the route home that takes me by absolutely no public bathrooms. Oh well, I'm sure this will all clear up soon.
5:34: Uh...I have moved less than 2 miles so far. God, I have to pee.
5:45: "Mom? Mom? Are you there? ... oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that 'Project: Runway' was on now ... well, if you had a Tivo, you could just pause it and talk to me, and then resume ... no, it's just that I've been in traffic for forty-five minutes and I've only gone three miles and I'm hungry and I'm not going to make it to my class in time and I hate this fucking city! ... no, there are no places to stop here ... no, not even a Starbucks ... yes, I'm sure there's no Starbucks, I'm surrounded by mansions ... I don't think any of the mansions have a Starbucks in them ... well, if you read it in 'In Touch' ... it doesn't matter anyway because at this point I'm hoping that my bladder explodes and kills me. I think that would be a more pleasant experience than this right now ... oh, I'm sure 'Project: Runway' is just as, if not more, morbid, but in a different, more subtle, way ... okay, I'm sorry. But there's nothing to be positive about right now ... "
6:10: I have got to stop calling my mom when I'm upset. I'm 23.
6:11: I need to pee.
6:12: I need to pee.
6:13: I need to pee.
6:14: I wonder how much the ticket would cost if I drove on the sidewalk.
6:30: I could just stop the car right here and walk, like in that R.E.M. video. Except that, unlike that R.E.M. video, I feel none of the companionship or situation-bonding with any of the people on this road. I hate them all. If they weren't on this road, I would be home by now and HEY!!! STOP TRYING TO CUT IN FRONT OF ME, MOTHERFUCKER!!! YOU MERGE BEHIND ME! YOU MERGE BEHIND!!!!!
6:32: I wonder how difficult it would be to build special extending legs from my car to my tires, like the Gadget Mobile had in 'Inspector Gadget.' And then when there was traffic I could press a button and my car would raise up above everyone and I could just drive through all this.
6:35: Although, if it was anything like the Gadget Mobile, I would press the leg extension button and, like, rollerskates and a robotic hand holding a flower would come out.
6:36: The rollerskates would make my car careen out of control and off a nearby cliff, and then a hand holding an umbrella would come out of the roof and the umbrella would almost immediately turn inside-out, thus rendering it useless.
6:37: My car would crash to the ground and I would die, but as I died, my bladder would release and then my body would be surrounded by like a lake of pee and that would just be embarassing not to mention unpleasant for the paramedics. So no Gadget Mobile.
6:39: But maybe I can get a motorcycle.

There were other thoughts as well, and right around seven, when my class had started and I was still five miles away from it and still hadn't eaten or peed, there were tears.

I finally got to my class and looked for a place to park on the street that wasn't too far away or in a sketchy area. Since my class is on Hollywood Blvd., this is not possible. I grabbed a slice of pizza on my way to the class and ate it outside the class building. A man begged me for change. As I dug around my purse for money, he sang Christina's Aguilera's "Beautiful" to me. I believe that this is a back-handed compliment, because on one hand, he is telling me that he thinks I'm beautiful, but then the rest of the song's lyrics say that there are a lot of other people who say that I'm not.

So I was forty-five minutes late for my class, but a few other people were later than me for the same reason, and one girl said that she, too, had called her mother and started crying. She also had to go to the bathroom, but said that she was so angry about the traffic that her pee actually retracted up into her uterus so she didn't have to go anymore.

I hope my drive home today is better. The traffic is so demoralizing.