Welcome back to hell

I should be starting back on Monday, that is, unless my smacked ass of a doctor gets up to his old tricks. He'll probably try to sign the necessary forms in Klingon or Elvish and leave me effed in the a for another week.

So in order to achieve maximum disappointment when he does this, I began driving a bit this last weekend. I tried to think positively, reminding myself just how long I've been able to avoid the never ending crush and in doing so, I had enough tranquility stored in the nether regions (of my brain) to stay Buddha-faced for at least a week.

Oh, the lies we tell ourselves.

Knowing I needed to drive, but also knowing that I likely wouldn't be able for very long, I opted to drive us back home after running some errands and picking up the dogs from the kennel. Nice and easy, easy breezy.

Then I started driving.

Now, you have to understand the surroundings where the kennel is located. Not a busy or high traffic area, especially on the weekend (which seems to be the case of the entire city, really). Pulling in to the kennel--ghost town. Wait for them to bring up the dogs--one car goes by. Get dogs, get out, get everyone into the car-nothing, nada, zip, zilch, fucking dead quiet. I pull up to the edge of the drive and look left before pulling out, you know, just in case even though it's been a completely dead road for a full 15 minutes.

Right on fucking cue.

Here comes a funeral length of traffic (only going slower) combined with the longest green light EVER just for them. Also, thanks to my amazing road fortunes, the direction I'm forced to go (because of construction) leads me straight into--that's right-- some more construction. This is the point where I find out that not only can these 237 cars (now in front of me) not go any faster than a load-bearing amputee, they are horribly confused and distressed by the color orange, thus extending the amount of time it takes me to get home by double.

I'm coming around to the theory that hell will be different for everyone and not just the Lake of Fire seen in standard dogma, mostly because my own (should I also have the poor fortune of going south rather than north upon my passing) is becoming much clearer. I will be perpetually stuck in a car behind these people for all eternity (and it will be very hot, naturally). I will never get home. I will never be able to leave the car. Joe Leiberman will be sitting in the passenger seat droning on about "aid and comfort".

Facing the prospect of that, how could a guy not be upset? I think I did well just in the fact that no one was stabbed.

Come to think of it, maybe I do want the doc to fuck up that paperwork....


(A new post is also up on LasVegasVegas Politics, for those interested)