I'm an Angry Driver.

Back in July when I accepted a new job in Salt Lake I commuted for a little over two months to work. From Orem to Salt Lake City, I drove every morning and every evening. It was horrible! I always considered myself a considerate and polite driver, with a reserved foot on the gas peddle. But All that changed when I was stuck on the busy I15 for 1.5-2.0 hours a day, or more depending of if there was an accident that day, and there usually was.

During this time, I became well acquainted with talk radio, and the vast quantities of those drivers which I would label "Stupid Drivers". Sometimes I would yell it at them behind the forever-stuck-rolled-up-windows in my Jeep Liberty.

Here are a few of the types of stupid drivers that now embody my driving pet peeves:

#1. The "Never-Signals-A-Lane-Change" Driver:

These drivers are vast and annoyingly unsafe. They zip and weave, treating those cars around them as if they were bees in a hive, always cognoscente of their intent to move, dive, or pollinate flowers... As if their need to let anyone of their intent to merge was not needed. I have to say, I on many occasion defended Utah drivers, always claiming that those drivers I had seen in rural Idaho had been so much worse. I now publicly rescind this claim in lou of the Never-Signals driver.

#2 The "Too-Destracted-By-Other-Things" Driver:

This not so rare bread of driver has no idea that they are even supposed to drive the large piece of
machinery to which their foot is accelerating with alarming Gusto. They put on make up, they text, they pick their nose and eat it! The vast ways these drivers distract themselves astounds even the most well versed in distracted driving.

#3 The "Too-Close-For-Comfort" Driver:

This driver is a notorious blight on interstate traffic jams! Accelerate and screeching halts are their bread and traveling butter. They ride so close to cars that they're practically able to change your radio dial for you. Never mind the appropriate amount of car length spaces per 10MPH rule. Nah, this all is ignored when a Too-Close gets behind the wheel.

#4 The "Too-Old, or Too-Drunk" Driver:

I place these two together not because they often drive together or because there are a crazy amount of drunk elderly people on our Utah highways, but because these drivers are often hard to tell apart because they are moving too slow or too shifty to safely follow behind. These are the cars and drivers you pass praying never to be between them and a "Too-Close" for fear of being rear-ended. These are the drivers we all hope to never be. But their seems to be the same; "As long as I have my license, I can drive. And if I go slow it will be safe" I say to you.... WRONG!

#5 "The-Slow-In-The-Express/Passig-Lane" Driver:

This driver laughs at all who dare to enter the far left lane. They find amusement in slowing to pitifully slow speeds, often matching the slow speed of the driver in the lane beside them. Because of these drivers, we lowly mortals must slow in the passing lane, thus negating the intent of that lane. We can't shift over and pass because there is no legal lane to pass them in on the left. Millions of poor souls have been trapped for days upon the freeways due to these drivers, never able to pass, never able to exit, just driving till our gas tanks sputter and we have to pull off and wait for a tow truck.

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Of all these, I've found that I have on occasion voiced my distress loudly. The only thing keeping these poor stupid driver's from feeling the wrath of my verbal onslaught is the tragic fact that none of my windows roll down. These words will never reach their ear's never travel to their very core. Nope. Instead they will fly around the inside of my jeep, bouncing off my forever-stuck-closed windows. They hit me as I travel slower then I would like, trapped in the fast lane... never able to leave. -- Well, there goes my exit!

Drive safe out there everyone!

Work is Giving me Tourettes.

Back before my long nights and crocodile slaying, there was a problem the company had with people leaving the lights on. All the time...when working, when walking to and fro... All the time! But mostly when locking the building up at night. This became such a problem apparently, that they decided to install sensors to all the lights in the building.

In theory I can see how this would be a fantastic plan. Set the timer and when people aren't around, it turns the lights off. Presto lower electric bill! But theory is just that... theory. Because the reality of these delightful little sensors is this:

Every morning when that first unfortunate soul arrives, they turn on the switch and the light (usually) stays on. No sensor issues...Yet!

Then more people stream in, a few at a time till the whole team is present and working. (Were such good little designers!)

Then all is fine till people start leaving for lunch. Once their aren't enough bodies to make enough movement in the room, that's when the sensor goblins come out to play. They scurry around the pipes making scrapping and groaning noises (I know that's not just heating and AC pipping!) Then WAM. Black Out! No more light, except from the harsh glow of our 27inch monitors.

We sit there feeling foolish... Because those crafty sensor goblins like a show, and they won't turn the light on for just anything... No these little beasties demand the jig of the deranged, the frolic of the strange, and the polka of the pained!

Unfortunately for me, and my coworkers; those pesky goblin's main sensor is right above my desk. They eye me with a particular glint, one of mischief and greed. They want to see me dance!

Because of my strategic location, I'm in just the right spot to please the sensor goblins with my wild theatrics, and thus my Tourette's has developed. It started as mild twitches, which at first pleased the goblins. But soon like gremlins, once fed they only wanted more. Arm waving, and soon bobbing, chair rolling and even some extreme planking, much to their delight.

The full fledged syndrome now was on full display; and most recently, I've river danced my way into the hearts of those pesky sensor goblins. However with great power comes great regret. For not only do the goblins love the show, but so do my coworkers! They laugh, they cheer, and stomp their feet; pounding out the rhythm of the dance.

So often I dance and twitch, my body a slave to the sensor goblins, I just better be careful and not this go so far as to wish my brother away... I hear crazy stuff like that happens when you mess with the goblin king! (Taylor and Michael, you've been warned!)

Long live the river dance! It keeps the lights on.




--- (Tourette's is an actual condition. The author of this post, though she is crazy, does not have actual Tourette's Syndrome, and in no way is she intending to hurt or offend anyone. This is simply a dramatic re-telling of true events... Just for fun... so get over it, and forget political correctness! Sheesh!) ---

Kill Crocodiles, Get Promoted.

Alright, so basically I've had a crazy year, and we've only had 16 days of it so far. Truthfully the crazy started back in October and hasn't seemed to slow.. Following my return from bereavement time off of work, I threw myself back into the regular routine of working hard and getting crap done. It was alright. I still had hard days thinking about my strange new identity as orphan. Not as glamorous as Harry Potter, people. I didn't get a Hogwarts letter, no wand, Nothing!

But back into the busy design world I went, trudging through the deluge of work like I was battling crocodiles in the swamps of some jungle, machetes blazing, bullets flying, it was WAR, and I was conquering! Seriously, my packaging skills have never been so fine tuned.

What an awesome blessing it is to be employed... Seriously!!!

Anyway, the trick of working hard continues, late nights and self torturous long hours keeping up with the work load apparently didn't go unnoticed. (How could it? I mean, it was like crocodiles. Remember the crocodiles?) So, a week ago, I get approached by my manager and asked to attend a meeting early in the morning... and to "Please be on time".

Dutifully I was, and found myself in a meeting. A meeting that went over the new roles which would be implemented among the Art Department staff. This was great, I finally had an idea of where I stood, and what my job was. (No Crocodile slayer was not a position title, though I suggested it.)

The following wednesday I was again asked into a meeting, this time by my boss. Where I was offered a PROMOTION! That's right, all the crocodile carcasses I had accumulated started to stink... Um, and in a good way? (That analogy got away from me.)

Anyway, promotion! Huzzah! I'm now a Senior Graphic Designer over all Packaging. This is a huge responsibility, and I hope to be a good mentor and leader. I struggle with confrontation and my twisted sense of work ethic... But I think this will be a great opportunity. Plus I get more moneys! Can't forget the moneys!?! MONEY!!! WooHoo! (As you can tell, I'm psyched about the moneys.)

Now all I have to do is step back and get some much needed rest, I've killed too many crocodiles over the past two months, and it's starting to show. (i.e. Blood spatter, cuts, scrapes, rabies... Ya know, all that standard kind of stuff.) I wonder if my new team will mind the foaming at the mouth and twitching? Guess we'll find out.

Here's to more moneys and crocodiles! :)