A brief rant

I do understand the purpose of this blog is to keep my readers (my family and other nosey individuals...don't be ashamed, I spend a good deal of time butting my way into others' affairs too, get that from my mom) apprised of the less visible workings of Corey and my daily lives.

Like when Corey says things like "It smells like pneumonia downstairs."

Or when Oliver drags his butt across the new rug and I fret over how to explain the foot-long chocolate smear.

But that's a hypothetical situation.  Purely hypothetical.

So forgive me when I use this time to rant about the misuse of public roadways, my pet peeve.

Why, erratic drivers over the age of 25 including a certain husband of mine who will remain nameless, must you tailgate?  I prefer to drive at a speed at which I feel comfortable, keeping in mind road conditions, posted speed limits, and how far below empty I am.  As a taxpayer in the State of New York I have the right to follow Vehicle and Traffic Safety Laws.  To come within a 3 iron's length from my bumper tells me you are impatient, lawless and in need of a learning opportunity, for which I happily oblige.

Also, aforementioned impatient drivers, how does flashing "the finger" as you whiz around me shave off precious seconds from your total travel time?  Yes, I am keeping you from your Burrito Supreme, but is abdominal discomfort and malnutrition really that important? 

Now I'll turn my attention to you, line of cars 14 miles long.  I understand you are itchin' to get home to make/eat/digest dinner before Survivor, but is one more car (mine) going to really put you that far behind schedule?  Fortunately, I learned from an expert in offensive driving how to inch my way into traffic so that other motorists have no choice but to let me in.  "Thank you" I wave.  Thank you for not ramming into me as I pulled out in front of you.

But I digress.

It's a good thing I only have about 35 more major pet peeves (to be discussed in depth at a later date).  Otherwise I might have to change my  name to Negative Nancy, or Clinically Depressed Cassie, and that would just be too much to sign.