I kept my head down tonight all the way to West Point playing Bejeweled on the iPod Touch. Did not look up once. Did not get upset about my husband's driving.
My husband likes to yell at all the other drivers on the road because they are all clearly dumbasses. This makes my blood pressure percolate. He also drives in the left lane.
The left lane is for passing, I say.
I'm passing everybody, he says.
But when you're finished passing, you're supposed to get back in the right lane.
No, he says.
So he and 40 other macho drivers are all in the left lane, bumper to bumper at 70 mph, even when there's no one at all in the right lane. Not one of these macho left lane drivers will get on the right. If one person hits their brakes, we're all smashed up, 40 car pile up.
Please get over into the right lane, there's no one in that lane.
No.
If you cared about me, if you LOVED ME, you would GET OVER INTO THE RIGHT LANE.
NO!
So now I am all sobbing, in tears, because it is a dark day when you find out your husband has chosen the left lane over you and doesn't love you enough to get over into the right lane, that he doesn't care if you die as long as you die in the left lane.
This scenario has produced many a very tense car ride. But now...with ear buds in, I hear nothing about dumbasses. I see nothing but the colored shapes of Bejeweled, telling me I am a wonderful matcher of threes, that I have advanced to another level, that I am doing EXCELLENT. I do not know (or care) what lane I am careening to my death in because all I see or hear is Bejeweled.
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