Ode to a Traffic Jam

(copyright 2016, Dawn Weber)

I want to go home,

I'm feeling quite tragic,

Because just like always,

I am stuck in traffic.

Ten thousand people,

On the road tonight,

In front and behind me,

All ready to fight.

Guy up ahead goes,

Fifty-five in a 70,

Ticking everyone off -

Ain't nobody happy.

Texty McSwervy,

On my driver’s side,

Won't look up from his phone,

Almost hits me broadside.

The asshole behind me,

Rides right on my tail,

Causing me to think thoughts,

That would land me in jail.

Brake lights up ahead,

We slow to a stop,

Could be an accident,

I watch out for cops.

A backup this bad,

You think, “Wreck!” Or “Fire!”

But it usually turns out

To be just a flat tire.

A turtle strolls past me,

On the berm at my right,

I'm jealous ‘cause he is,

Almost home for the night.

The hub sends a text,

Asking where I am,

What can I say?

I'll get there when I can.

I'd rather be with him,

Sipping a beer,

But I'll be on I-70,

For the next 50 years.

Yeah my beer's probably warm,

And my dinner, it's cold,

While I sit in a Honda,

Getting nowhere - but old.

Long Live Mediocrity. And Turtles

(post copyright 2016, Dawn Weber)

I've recently become a decent person. I'm not quite sure how this happened.

I didn't mean to. My plan was to remain a mediocre person, filling my spare time with such strenuous activities as eating, sleeping and online shopping. I know this sounds lazy and self-involved. I'm OK with that.

But somehow, I've become the type of woman who occasionally volunteers at church, pitches in at school events, and makes meals for older folks. I've become the type of woman who sometimes helps people.

Please understand. I'm not bragging here. I've always stood back -- way back -- staring in wonderment at room mothers, shelter volunteers, soup kitchen workers and such who spend their free time caring for others. I want to tell these people, "Go home! Sit down! Open up a nice box of wine!"

But they're too busy being wonderful to listen.

I have no idea why I've been helping people lately. Aside from my family and friends, I don't even like people.

I blame the interstate and Donald Trump for that.

Animals are another story. Over the years, I've given countless dogs, cats, frogs, baby birds, etc., the benefit of my fumbling assistance, whether they wanted it or not. I have saved so many turtles by carrying them across the road that my husband calls me the Patron Saint of Turtles.

Now, If you're not very concerned about dogs, cats, frogs, baby birds, turtles on the road, etc., know this: you're not alone. And don't worry. I'm concerned enough for all of us.

I guess my new-found benevolence toward humans could be due to impending geezer-hood. It seems to me that as certain women age and move toward retirement, they spend more and more time volunteering. I'm retiring in 52 months and 11 days -- not that I'm keeping track. I have very big napping plans for the year 2020. I need to stop giving a shit real soon.

Perhaps the biggest problem I have with volunteering is exhaustion. Philanthropy -- and getting off the couch in general -- makes me tired, and constantly interferes with my dream of sitting around and sleeping. Also, it seems like helping others just leads to more helping of others. If I'm not careful, I'm going to end up as the ancient volunteer lady in the front lobby of every hospital who nods off and can't work the desk phone. That is not who I want to be.

I want to be the ancient lady who nods off in a hammock and can't work her own phone.

And when I retire on Tuesday, September 29, 2020 (at 5:30 p.m. -- not that I'm keeping track) I plan to go home, sit down, open up a nice box of wine, and only get up to carry the occasional turtle across the road.

It's good to have goals.

__________________________________________________