We've been together a long time. We have our special together time every morning. Me, trying to get to work, you trying to stand there and look productive. But this morning I had an experience that made me somewhat unhappy with you. You see, you have an annoying little habit that we've been sweeping under the rug. I feel like it's time that we just discussed it out in the open.
So here's the thing. You like to switch up which way the lanes move around. I guess it's exciting for you to put up cones where I used to drive, while drawing new lines for me to follow. Then you like to change the new traffic pattern once again, and repeat that process willy nilly. It seems to give you some kind of thrill. I'm not here to judge your habits, it's just that that particular habit almost killed me today.
Because of your thrill seeking, it is nearly impossible to see where the lanes are. You don't bother to erase the old lines, you just draw new ones. With each iteration it becomes more and more difficult to see which lines are intended as lanes, and which ones are intended as art. So there are lanes going in every direction and it is anybody's guess which ones are real. So that brings me to the method of my near execution.
This morning, I was driving along minding my own business. Suddenly, the guy to my right decided he should follow some lines going left. The guy to my left decided he should follow some lines going right. I just wanted to follow the lines going straight. It is anybody's guess which of the three of us was actually following the true lane. Neither of them seemed to notice or care that they were about to run into me. I quickly surveyed my options. One option was to try to squeeze between them like the Knight Bus.
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| This was the more awesome but less practical option |
Now, my dear construction working friend, it should be noted that had I been killed in this incident I would not have blamed the poor souls who didn't know which lane to drive in. I feel that they are victims just as much as I was. No, if I was killed I would blame you. Also, it should be noted, that I would haunt you until the day my wife dies. (Once she dies, we'll be partying it up in the spirit world together, and we'll have better things to do then haunt you. But until then, I've got nowhere to go.)
That's right, if I die because of all the lame construction going on, I will bring terror into your household for decades. And we're not talking just eerie apparitions in the middle of the night. Certainly there will be plenty of that, but you haven't seen me dance. That is a terror in itself. I'll be dancing, and rocking it up all night long. So just keep that in mind, as you stand there trying (and failing) to look busy. You may want to wrap this project up.
With love,
Your dearest friend,
Jeff
