Valentine's Day is coming up. I hate buying Valentine gifts. Why? Cause I never get the right thing and Dh ALWAYS says, next time don't bother to buy anything.
As far as I'm concerned, that fact that I got him something should be enough.
But that's not my rant. I went to my local Best Buy to get Dh the new Rob Zombie album that came out today. (I know, it's a Valentine gift, but it's not high on the sexy list... oh well.) Anyway, I'm driving home and I'm minding my own business because, well, I didn't need to rush and I didn't feel like wasting gas by speeding. I did the speed limit and sang along with the radio.
At TWO different stoplights, (yes, stoplights) an older person (little old, blue-haired lady) in a Caddy the size of a yacht zips right through the intersection. It was red at the time! Yes, I realize that you can get distracted and mess up, but I don't think she tapped the brake at all. At the next light, a person in a brand spanking new Ford F-150 decided red meant go. The person sped to the light, slammed the brakes, looked both ways (thank god - but it gets better), flipped me the bird for sitting at the light (cause I knew what she was gonna do next - call it instinct), and sped up to get through the red light. Now maybe she wasn't paying attention, but this person PEELED OUT getting through the intersection as she flipped me off.
Maybe we didn't all go through safety town (I flunked out--long story), but I remember from kindergarten: green means go, yellow means slow, and red means stop and stay put.
Okay, so it sounds like I'm getting old and cranky. I might be. BUt I look at it that I have a small person in the truck with me. I THINK I'm a good driver, but I really worry about what the other guy/gal is or isn't thinking or is doing BESIDES driving. As I tell DS, I can replace the truck, but I can't replace him and heaven help the person who hits me, if DS gets hurt. (Yeah, I have a Momma Bear complex.)
Oh, and don't get me started on PARENTS who TEXT while DROPPING their KIDS off AT SCHOOL. Rolling along, typing out a text, while your child is trying to exit the SUV. I feel bad for the kids. (For the record, I might be a dork and talk on my phone while I drive, but I can say with a clear conscience, I have NEVER texted while driving.)
I'll get off my soapbox now. I don't feel much better, but at least I had an outlet to vent. Thanks for reading.
What do you think? Ever had one of those zanies about ram you or cut you off and they were in the wrong? I'd love to hear about it.