Daily Gripe

Hello, my name is Stu. Today my gripe is once again before the event. I know it will happen so I will spout off now. Traffic construction - on roadways. This construction or lack there-of sometimes - always – always - takes place on the roads that I travel. Why is this?
I will see the sign, “Right lane closed 1,000 feet ahead." The flags, the orange cones line the shoulder. I budged over into the left lane. Cars and TRUCKS go barreling down the almost empty right lane. And here I am clogged in the slow moving responsible lane. Traffic in my lane moving slower than a snails pace: speeding vehicles in the right lane making tracks leaving me in the wake of their dust. I love those signs in the water –No Wake Zone. People always obey that sign. Minutes turn into frustrating eons as cars on the right still speed by. Why am I still in the left lane?
So, I go for broke and ease over into the right lane. I have broken free, spit at the rules and followed my own destiny. INSTANTLY. The right lane is blocked by orange cones and signs. What happened to all those speeders? It’s almost as if it was a mirage. Perhaps I was hallucinating. Did I really see all those cars rolling past me? Now here I am STUCK in the black hole of travel construction. No one absolutely no one will let me budge back in. Time is like watching water boil on a turned off stove. A lesson learned well.
A few miles down the road in another state the signs appear again. The orange cones are striking against the bleak roadside scenery. This time I will stay in the proper lane: for miles upon miles if necessary. The sun begins to dip behind the horizon of stopped traffic. Cars fly by in the right hand lane like demons from the deathly hallows. Did I tell the hotel I may be a late arrival? Will they give my room away to one of the demon drivers in the right hand lane? I would call to verify but my cell phone is dead and the car charger has been missing for weeks.
Darkness floats across the quiet highway. I hate driving at night. My contacts turn the night lights into a festival New Year’s celebration. I can’t take them out as I left my contact case packed in my luggage. I can’t toss them out the window as I only brought one pair. I am always so prepared for life.
My stomach growls in protest. I see the exit sign and feel some relief. I ease over into the right hand lane to make my turn. And where oh where is – was that construction? I sat patiently in that lane with gazillions of other responsible road warriors - for WHAT? You stopped construction at noon and never took down those &*@#%^& signs. There should be a law against such abuse.

Forever in my pure thoughts,

Mr. Pid