Everyone seems to be in a hurry. No revelation there. But every now and then it gets on my nerves.
Granted, it was the beginning of morning rush hour as I made my way to the lab for some blood work. But it’s an inevitability anymore—on my way there, and back: someone is on my tail, maybe late for work, or maybe just so geared up and harried that they only know one speed anymore. And it’s not like the route is interstate highway. For the most part, it’s hilly and bendy, one lane both directions.
Back off, I say to myself. I slow down often times, because I have a certain amount of passive-aggressive in me, and I refuse to let someone wrest control as I navigate and try to drive at a reasonable rate of speed.
Slow down, everyone. Take a chill pill.
I can tell I’m getting older. It’s like the world is moving a mile a second and I’m putt-putting along in a Model T.
3 Cents' 