As I was sitting again at a stoplight on Randall Road this morning meagerly minding my own matters, I casually looked to my left and noticed a dude in a car beside me having his breakfast. It was an Egg McBiscuit from McDonald’s. Or whatever they call them.
In another era I, too, ate mobile breakfast sandwiches behind the wheel before work so I knew of his quest.
This scene is my truck. I’m barreling north on Randall Road and need to turn left at the next intersection. There’s a handful of cars that are also barreling south toward the intersection. Because everybody’s got to get to work.
The light is green for both sides. Timing will be close but the southbound traffic has the downhill advantage. I add a little acceleration to the equation. A little horsepower to even the odds.
The light turns yellow so I slow down and then stop at the red light.
I’m always grateful when the cosmos saves me from myself. 😊
I think what annoys me most about driving on Randall Road is that the speed limit is 45 mph but with the sheer amount of daytime traffic and number of stoplights by the Commons, I never get to actually go 45.
See, if I can just get around these other cars I can enjoy the Road Warrior speeds as posted by the Illinois Department of Transportation. Or whoever makes up the speed limits. But no, I’m stuck not even going half that.
My favorite thing to do Tuesday around 5 o’clock is drive down Randall Road.
In other news I generally get to this point in life and then give up not long after. It’s like there’s some invisible hump that I just can’t get over. One time I did go a little bit farther but then I still gave up. Sometimes I don’t have the energy to keep fighting the good fight.
The cosmo says to expect miracles. OK, I’m patiently waiting.
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
And finally… while driving to pick Maggie up I saw this on a farm marquee:
THANKS FOR A GREAT SUM SEE YOU IN THE SPRING
That made me feel good. I do have a pretty great SUM.
When I was driving to work this morning a sheriff’s car was behind me in the other lane. As we approached the intersection on Randall and 64 the stoplight turned yellow. I slowed down and stopped because I’m sure the sheriff had his eye on me. And of course my license plates are expired.
So then the sheriff gunned his car and blew through the red light. No sirens, no lights, just horsepower. Whether or not he was within his law enforcement privileges to do such isn’t important to what I’m writing here.