It’s only Wednesday morning, and already it’s been one tough week.  I like to keep this space positive and not use it for complaining or venting – that’s what calls to best friends are for.  But there’s been stuff that has been getting me down this week (warning: most of them are traffic-related) and I just want to get it out.  So.

Dear fellow commuters:  When you see a space of about a car length in front of me, please don’t assume that it was put there for your use.  It’s called a “cushion of air,” and in case your driver’s ed teacher wasn’t as good as mine, let me explain: it’s so I don’t hit the car in front of me, which until a moment ago was not you.  I’m generally a nice driver and I probably let more of you in than other drivers, but dang if you’re not taking advantage of me with this cutting-off business.  And that’s just not cool.  I have places to be, too.  Also, green means go.

Dear left lane lurker:  Are you trying to enforce your own brand of speed limit vigilante justice, or are you just clueless?  The left lane is for passing.  If you’re not passing, MOVE OVER.

Dear rubberneckers:  Why do people do this?  Seriously, I’ve never understood it, so please explain it to me.  First of all, the people on the side of the road are probably having one of the top five worst days of their life, and you staring at them isn’t making it any better.  Remember, there but for the grace of God go you.  How would you like it in their place?  And there is a line of cars behind you that would prefer to just get home at the end of a long workday, rather than stopping to stare at a car accident.  So can we please stop gawking at these poor people and just go about our business?

Dear cyclists:  Look, I’m a big fan of bikes.  I’m not one of those drivers who resents your presence or who refuses to share the road.  I have a road bike myself, and I would totally ride it to work if I lived even a little bit closer (as things stand now, it would take me two hours each way).  But some of you don’t seem to understand that you have to follow the rules of traffic, and that sharing the road goes both ways.  That means that when I’m driving through a green light and you’ve got a red light, you’re supposed to stop.  Breezing through the intersection – causing me to have to come to a screeching halt with a line of cars behind me – and then flipping me off (?!?!?!?!) is most uncool.  You’re making all cyclists look bad, and as a cyclist myself, I don’t appreciate that.  If we want to be taken seriously by drivers, we need to obey the rules that are put out there for our protection, ya follow?

Dear rat race:  I know, I know.  I know I just have to accept you, since I can’t escape.  I really do like my job.  I enjoy what I do, and I work with nice people.  And I also understand – and completely accept – that there are going to be days when I have to stick around the office after-hours to get something done (or work on a weekend) and I’m perfectly okay with that.  I make good money, and if I made any more, it would come with serious sacrifices of family time, so I’m happy with the balance I’ve struck.  But when Monday and Tuesday both keep me in the office late – Monday so late that I just barely pull into the driveway in time to tuck the baby into bed – well, my heart breaks a little bit.  Being a working mom stinks sometimes.  I know it could be worse.  I only have one job, and it’s a good one.  But I miss the baby all day, every day, and it’s not getting any easier.

Dear 24-hour day:  My house is a mess, I barely have time to cook, I have guests coming into town, and you keep ignoring my requests to add another couple of hours.  What gives?

Ahhhhhhh.  I feel better.  Thanks for indulging me.  Back to our regularly-scheduled geeking out about books on Friday.

Damn it feels good to be a gangtsa.