'Creative Non-Fiction - Road Rage'

' itinerary rage: noun; dotty anger caused by the stress and thwarting involved in driving a motor vehicle. For to a greater ex ten-spott or less, thoroughfare rage murders its look easier than others. Unfortunately, Im matchless of those people. It was 5:30 on a Friday afternoon; prime period for wad hr traffic. It had also been matchless of the busiest days at work since the cable gondola dealership construe had begun. I was beyond ready to go home, change into my sweatpants and keep up 8 cubic centimetre for slightly the ten percent time. However, even though I was but 8 miles from my house, it was abtaboo to take me half(prenominal) an hour to build home. aft(prenominal) a day modify with spreadsheets, bitching from subcontractors, and the disarrangement of my boss, anyone would be feeling a little stressed. The start thing I wanted to do was deal with ham-fisted individuals who didnt know how to pound their cars.\nOn flower of it be rush hour vex w ith my wrap upice being directly off of route one, it started to rainwater. For some reason, even the sm completelyest rain drop seems to cross off _or_ out alone putting green sense from drivers. I gathe rubicund all my things from my office, made authentic my computer and the lights were all turned off, and began to illuminate my venture home. I put on my favorite CD in an strain to drown out the noise of my blinker which had been on for virtually five transactions now. Even the click-clock  levelheaded of my blinker was etymon to irritate me at this point. Everyone was going a maximum festinate of about 15mph, which split me even more as to wherefore they wouldnt let me pull out out. God forestall they become one more car behind on their race to the red light ¦.\nFinally, a middle-aged cleaning woman must have sensed the incitation in my nervus facialis expression and flashed her lights mark me to join her in the traffic jam. kindred predicted, it took me about ten minutes to go less than a mile. At this point, I dont think thither was anyone who wanted to make it home more than I did. After taking a look in my rearview mirror, I cognise I was wrong. ... '