Life...or something like it

Today I spent the majority of it in a car. I hate driving. When we finally got home, I metioned my fiery passion hatred for driving and my mom responded with a typical mom-answer, "And you were in such a hurry to drive when you were younger! haha"

Or, how about I wasn't really. I refused to drive and get my license and only did so on account of being threatened to have to quit my job at Pizza Hut if I didn't stop acting like a baby and just get my "fucking license."

So I did, and now. Now I'm spending days driving all over the valley. But tomorrow...tomorrow will be better. She goes back to work. Ah. How do you spell relief? W-o-r-k. For her at least.

And speaking of which, today was a weird, rantalicious driving day. This morning on my way back home from picking up the kiddos from their dad's, I was heading North on Price Rd., when I noticed something very strange. On the two lane, one-way road, I was in the right lane, and in the left lane, heading the complete opposite direction, was an old lady. Nonchalantly driving the wrong way. (how many more times can I say "way"?) I didn't really know what to do. So I just kept on going. Watching, of course, in my rear view to see what would happen. Weird.

Then, going home, finally, there was this bitch just sitting in the lane that I needed to turn into to get home. There's construction going on and lanes are blocked off, so you can only turn right out of it, and there's one lane blocked so you can go down into my neighborhood (I know I'm not describing this very good, but bear with me). If you're headed South, there are TWO signs that say no left turns. So I was headed East and had to turn left to go North, into the only lane open for such a thing, and there she was, just sitting there, waiting to turn left. When clearly, previously said TWO signs indicated that there was no left turns. So I had to sit and wait for a whole other light cycle to turn. Stupid people shouldn't be allowed to drive.

Well, now that I've surely confused everyone with my cornucopia of words, I should probably go home now. It's time to pick up the Queen's vicodin...maybe then she'll pass out and I'll have the night to spend with my weasel in peace and quiet. Oh, and I'm going to change my name...but shhh, nobody tell her. So when she calls out "MAL!!" every 15 minutes, I won't answer cause that won't be my name anymore. Ya. Sounds good. Mental retardation isn't the right sickness, but it's the first that comes to mind.