Instead of pondering ways to get out of the house, maybe I should be locked in, for my own safety and that of my fellow citizens. When I left for my morning errands, my brain was already misfiring from another needlessly late night. I don't even know what I do so late at night, but any time I think I'm ready to go to bed, I can usually count on being awake for at least another three hours.
So anyway, I was diverted from my regular route by the road construction that hems me in here. There are three north-south avenues that will get me to the post office. The easiest one is completely closed. The second-easiest has one lane shut down, resulting in long delays. The road with the least construction requires a left turn into traffic that is dense on its best days, even denser when the other two roads are closed.
It becomes a chore to do the one thing that gets me out of the house for sure every day. If I'm stuck behind a meanderer who can't seem to push hard enough on the gas pedal to find the speed limit, I have to restrain myself from giving him a little bump. When my left turn lane comes up, it gives me great pleasure to pull alongside this idiot and make the turn before he draws even with me.
Well, that's just fine, if no one is coming from the other direction. I didn't see the truck until it was too late to stop. It wasn't traveling fast enough to be a danger to me (or my Honda), but it was too close for comfort. It shook me a bit. I found the closest parking space and walked the four remaining blocks to the post office. That seemed to work, and I took appropriate care the rest of the way.
Yes, I'm ashamed that I let my emotional state put me in that situation. I take pride in being a good driver. I'm almost always a better driver than most of the other people on the road. Not today, though. I sucked today, but it's a lesson that'll last awhile. It's now safe to ride with me again.