It was the best commute, it was the worst commute.

I didn't REALLY wake up until I was rinsing the conditioner from my hair in the shower. I was absolutely no longer asleep a few minutes later, as I remembered to pack my lunch and grabbed my after-work running gear with me as I walked to my car.

I *love* my ride. "Jake" is JUST for me from front bumper to back license plate. He'll be 7 years old in August, has ridiculously low mileage (intentionally, as I plan on having him for a looong time), and was the first car that I bought with NO help from anyone else. He is both my first "grown up" car and my "mid-life crisis" car all wrapped into one and, so as to avoid getting into a big car debate, I'm NOT gonna tell you what make/model he is, except that he is a rag top.

I stopped for my coffee fix, queued up my commute music, and settled in. Knowing that I was starting minutes later than I usually do, I realized that this would add about 25 minutes to my drive but no matter – Jake and I are good carpool buddies and I like driving him, even in traffic.

After Jake passed the airport, I noticed sirens in the distance. When his top is down, I'm far more aware of our surroundings, even with music blaring, and it didn't take long for me to see that I was gonna need to pull over a lane, quickly, so as to get out of the way of the now rapidly approaching emergency vehicles – full lights and sirens engaged. With Jake's right blinker on and crawling slowly over, I merged carefully into the next lane.

AND THE LOSER behind me absolutely blasted us with his horn. Now sure, I know that we pushed my way in, and I'm sure that our being in front of him is gonna throw off his *entire* day and make him seconds late all day long (note the sarcasm) but there were fire engines breathing up Jakes' tailpipe and I'm sorry but we decided that we were coming over so you'll just have to hang tight, mister.

My noisy co-commuter realized, after the 3rd engine (again, still full lights and siren) blew past us that he'd made a stupid assumption – that I was one of those self-absorbed, cell-phone balancing while driving with my knees typical woman driver – and he refused to look at my rear view for the rest of the time he was behind me. When we finally passed the accident and the traffic disappeared (how *does* that happen anyway?) he pulled along side of me and gave me the international "I'm a donkey and I'm sorry" shrug with sheepish grin … and I'd LIKE to say that I gave him the "yes you are but it's ok" sign back – but that's NOT the sign I gave him, tho' I did use a finger … which I suppose DOES make me the typical woman driver.

I was just starting to forgive myself for not forgiving him as Jake and I approached the bridge. It was cased in fog – so deep that I couldn't see the towers individually or the land on the other side. NOT the favorite part of my commute on an ideal weather morning, and this wasn't an ideal weather morning. But, on the other side, warmth and sunshine awaited.

So this is either a story of my life thus far or my commute this morning. Hard to say.