Wednesday, February 11th, 2009, 12:45 am

It’s been pointed out that I haven’t been posting lately–not that these people were complaining, mind you, just pointing out a fact. My folks read my blog and when I go days without posting, well, they start to worry that I’m locked up somewhere, in an alcoholic coma, etc etc etc. I’ve once again fallen into the bad habit of writing something, almost finishing, then deciding to toss the whole thing. And maybe my batteries are still drained from the Super Bowl. That sounds like as good an excuse as anything.

Almost killed two people yesterday–but I even failed to accomplish that. I bought a new desk to replace the old dining table I’ve used for nearly three years (it’s big, I’ll post pics someday) and after working in the AM I did some reordering of the flat in the afternoon. That’s when I noticed that Ernie the Cat’s litter box was looking a bit low. I grabbed a tub to give him a re-up (been watching The Wire all weekend) and, whoops! It was full of used litter, i.e. poop. I’d forgotten to take it down to the dumpster when I bought a new tub ‘o litter. So now I had about 30 pounds of catshit in my home and Ernie looking at me like, "Dude, you got on hour to make this right or I’m crapping in your coffeepot".

I walked out to my car thinking, "So it’s come to this. I’m 40 years old, single, and I’m running out to buy litter for my cat. Maybe I should drop the whole poker thing and take up crochet". Drove to Target, bought litter and duct tape (so I’d feel a little bit macho) and doubletimed it back to the car. I had volleyball in a few hours and wanted to get in some quality time on the stationary bike beforehand so I was a bit impatient to get home. The exit to the shopping center has a four-way stoplight, but if you’re turning right on Route 8 there’s a separate lane so you can pull out if the traffic turning into the center has a green arrow. Or if there’s no traffic coming. So I get in the right lane and this car is stopped about 15 feet short of the light. The traffic turning into the center had the green so this guy could’ve gone at his leisure. Instead he’s just sitting there. So I give him a little toot on the horn. At least I tried to–I’ve had my car for about six months now and I’ve only used the horn once that I can remember, when some drunk jackass nearly ran me off the road as I was driving to the airport for my flight to Aruba. And that time I used both hands and LEANED on the horn. This time I was trying to give a sprightly little "YOU CAN GO, ASSHOLE" chirp.

The cross traffic gets the green and I sigh as it looks like I’ll have to wait a bit. But after a few cars go by there’s no oncoming traffic. This idiot can make a right on red…and he’s just sitting there. I rap the heel of my hand on the horn, it burps, and I see the driver look in his rear-view mirror and about five seconds later his brake lights go off.

And I see through his rear window that he doesn’t look left to see if anything’s coming. Like the school bus that came over the rise at about 45mph. He just goes. And I’m shouting, "No, NO!!" as the bus bears down on him. The guy pulls about a third of the way onto the road before stopping–he didn’t jam on the brakes, he didn’t stop all of a sudden, it was like he was about to go over a speed bump. He stopped, the bus swerved a bit to go around, and then the car pulled out like it was nothing.

Meanwhile I nearly puked on myself. It was late in the afternoon and I’m pretty sure the school bus was empty, but if that guy hadn’t stopped he would’ve gotten CREAMED. Drove home with my heart going THUMPTHUMPTHUMP and wondering if I could’ve been held liable for honking that couple to their doom. Got home and Ernie greeted me at the door with a look that said, "Hmm, no blood on your hands? Pity". At least that’s what I thought it said.

Anyway, I’ll try to post more often. Hopefully about something more interesting that the cat and near-miss inadvertent felonies.

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One Response to “Meep-Meep”

  1. Darcy Says:

    Or just let me know when you are ready for crochet lessons.

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