Have you ever walked into your home at the end of a long day and it was so messy the theme song from Sanford and Son started playing in your head? Happened to me last night and I nearly shit my pants laughing. Yes, my condo unit is a junkyard. The furniture is all helter skelter and piled high with papers, boxes, and assorted crap. And the clothes – it looks like a Samsonite exploded. Boxer shorts, dirty socks, and t-shirts are everywhere – hanging on doorknobs, draped over chairs, and fencing in the dust bunnies that live in the corners. I will spare you a description of the smell – at least until I have identified its origin.
Stumbling in on that mess last night was made even worse by the fact that it took me a mind-numbing hour and a half to get home from work. I’ve actually WALKED to my office in less time than that. But that’s what snow during rush hour does. It activates the “idiot” gene in people, an impairment far more dangerous than any amount of alcohol one could consume. People start disregarding traffic signals altogether. They drive along the dotted line in the middle of the road. They blow red lights, block intersections, and fishtail like the Duke boys out of frustration – all without wiping the snow off their side and back windows. Makes for a real happy fucking holiday season. I actually lucked out for a little while when I managed to swing into the wake created by a passing ambulance. Then some jackass cut me off and started letting all the slow-pokes creep back in front of us. Moron. If you’re going to follow an ambulance, you gotta stick close and make it count.
Oh well – I’m glad that episode is over. Next time I’ll know to walk. Okay, time to clean up the junkyard.
Oh dis is da big one!
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