"There's no need to complicate, our time is short" --Jason Mraz*

This has been happening more and more so I thought I'd provide a little PSA.

Two nights ago it happened again. I was on my way home from work** and I signaled to turn left. A car on the other side of the double yellow came to a dead stop--with cars behind them--to let me turn.

It wasn't like traffic was backed up in front of them and they were giving right-of-way because they couldn't move forward. No, there was no reason for them to stop. But stop they did and flashed their lights. While cars behind them no doubt thought "WTF?"

And I thought "WTF?" If this were an isolated instance, I'd say fine, just a nutjob. But this is happening a lot lately. Am I that scary as to incite a "No, no, please, dear god, you go right ahead" response? I'm not driving the batmobile, here.

People, you shouldn't give me your right-of-way! Sure, it starts innocently enough... then, before you know it, you're giving me all kinds of things you weren't planning on.***

So let's stick with the established rules, shall we? Right-of-way dictates that there is a right and a wrong to traffic order. It's not just a "nice to have", it keeps us safe. So, all you folks who are too polite to go when you're supposed to, or have decided that a four-way stop is the perfect time to work through your BDSM issues:

STOP.

And by STOP, I mean, of course,

GO!

Thank you.

We now return to your regularly scheduled programming already too far in progress for you to enjoy.


* Why should I be the only one with this earworm?

** Read: sober and driving perfectly well, thankyouverymuch.

*** You gonna eat those french fries? Oh, and that's a pretty sweet looking t-shirt. Do you think it would fit me? By the way, can you water my plants and mow my lawn? No, I'm not traveling, why do you ask?****

**** When I was in high school, one of my favorite flirts was to ask a cute guy if I could wear his whatever... hoodie, jacket, sweater. There was something really cozy about knowing I was wearing something that belonged to him. I had some items for months on end. Which just makes my point, you don't want to start giving me things.

"The more I get of you the stranger it feels, yeah"--Seal

Sometimes people are stupid. I mean besides me.

What? You noticed this, too? Why didn't you warn me?

A few months back, my boss volunteered me to help strategize on a struggling project and this has meant my meeting with a core team of three others (Team Leader, Team Member, and someone we'll call Snookums) at least once a week. If I'm lucky the meetings are only once a week.*

Here's the kind of thing that happens at these meetings...

Me: What're we working on today?

Team Lead: Um, there's a fire. I guess that's different. Why don't we go around the table and check in on previous actions--

Me: Wait, did you say there was a fire?! The building is on fire?!

Team Lead: A little... I've never really dealt with a fire before. So, how about we start with last week's presentation?

Team Member: Once, I saw a fire.

Team Lead: Really?

Team Member: Yeah, we called the Fire De--

Snookums: You know what goes good with fire? S'mores. Did you ever have S'mores? Once I went camping and we--

Me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

As you can see, my strategic input is always constructive.

Anyhoo, right before a critical deadline we had one of these core team meetings and Snookums flaked. Total no show. This was Friday at 11:00 a.m. The rest of us sucked it up and did what needed to be done. We made the deadline and got the product delivered.**

Come Monday, we got an email from Snookums explaining that she didn't make it back to work after her hair appointment. Her appointment ran a little long and she couldn't be bothered to come all the way back to work after that for only a few hours. It just wasn't worth it.

That's what she wrote.

In e-mail.

Yeah, the kind of email I could oh-so-easily forward to her boss.

So flippin' stupid is our Snookums.

You want to blow off work, Snookums? Next time, for your own good, maybe try a little less honesty. Try, um, sick child. That's popular. Or, hm, emergency flooding at home. That's always viable. Couldn't be bothered to shlep back to work after you got your hair done?! Not feelin' it, Snookums. Not feelin' it at all.



* At least these give me something to put on my weekly status report. This week's status report: Managed to keep from getting stabby. Briefly.

** This is about as impressive as my businessspeak gets.