Today’s commute home was enlivened by horrible traffic. Not the worst traffic I’ve ever encountered on the streets of Chicago, but not fun. Totally frustrating as you are trying to get to a park to pick up a few kids … one of which is mine. The traffic on Lake Shore Drive was only moderately bad: local traffic, both before getting the kids and after, was evil.
Solution? No idea. People going places on a Friday night. They’re allowed. Public transportation wouldn’t have worked for me trying to get to kids, may not have worked for others either. Widening the streets wouldn’t help: ruin the character of the neighborhood, be stupid at any time other than a Friday night. And besides: widen the street, more cars drive down it, more traffic, no solution at all.
So a stupid and annoying commute home. Fed pizza to those that eat pizza, peanut butter to those that don’t, and now they are watching Ironman and I am writing, tired, and wishing I were more brilliant than I am.
The car is as entertaining as it can get without distracting the driver (me). Still, I wish I could read. Of course, I could listen to books on tape (CD) … but instead I listen either to podcasts or music … and I like both. And I like reading: eyes on a page, even a digital page.
Vacation is a week away. I am so looking forward to it. Traffic is not traffic there. Even when I drive, which I try not to do.