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Punk Rock Horology

I have been keeping my one New Year's Resolution lately, which leads me to believe I resolved wisely.

See, instead of something unattainable such as "lose ten pounds," "read more books," or "don't be such an a-hole," I picked a more attainable goal that arguably makes a bigger impact on the world.

My resolution was,"Correct other people when they do rude things I don't like."

And make smaller paragraphs.

Today, because it was so cold (see last entry), I drove to work. If I haven't mentioned it before, let me do so now -- drivers in DC suck. Not Athens bad, but really bad nonetheless. I've been laying on the horn both to and from work, and even ran the window down this morning (in the cold, mind you) to yell at another driver, who insisted on making a left-hand turn in heavy traffic, despite the presence of a BLOODY HUGE sign that said "NO LEFT TURNS" right in front of his bloody face. I honked at him, the people behind me honked at him, I stuck my head out the window (well, not really, but the window was down), and yelled,"Dude, no left turns!"

Yeah, "Dude". I'm such a blessed coaster. I was going to yell A-hole, but I didn't know if there were any kids around, and I have this problem with swearing (or being around people who swear) in front of them. It's the same feeling one gets when one ducks into a shrubbery to pinch an emergency loaf, finishes with great relief, pulls one's pants up, and turns around to see a family at a picnic trying to keep from throwing up.

Not that that happens much anymore, but that's how it feels. Except slightly less malodorous.

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