Et tu, Brutus?

So apparently, driving to work isn't any picnic, either.

Yesterday, I had to drive to work (45 miles each way yo) because the monthly MARC/Metro ticket I had ordered hadn't arrived yet. Fine, whatever. I was going out after work anyway, so it was better to have my own transportation.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned ticket didn't show up one more again, so I had to drive to work again today. And it was raining, which means in this area that everyone slows down and goes 12 mph because rain, you see, is radioactive and causes cars going above 12 mph to melt in place, sending their drivers and back-seat passengers to a special 8th circle of Hell that contains nothing but SUVs and burning cups of Starbucks. You may ask what happens to the passengers ... they go to Heaven. No one knows why.

Anyway, I get to work today a bit later than usual, lock my car and notice my right front tire looks odd. Almost as if it had blown a bubble or something. So I took it to the nearby Merchants Tire after work, and was informed that my tire had an impact bubble (kinky). And of course, it needs to be replaced. The reason? Said impact bubble comes about from hitting a pothole. So yes folks, the MARC is overcrowded, the Metro is filled with crazy people on trains that don't go nowhere, and the roads are deadly, if not to the people, than to the tires carrying the people. Seriously, this is insane.

The dude at Merchants said the bubble was a little one (they have pills for that), and that I should be able to get it home. Though it was comforting to hear him say that at some point, the tire is going to explode. Great. In retrospect, I could have had them put the spare on, but the spare tire on my car has a lot of miles on it, so I thought that might have been iffy. So I trudged on home, literally counting off each mile, where I was in relation to the next Merchants (the tires are under warranty, so I'll save some cash anyway), and how close I was to home. Of course, this is the night that folks decide to get crazy with the cheese whiz on 795 and close it with a big wreck, sending everyone on to another road with 14134 traffic lights, and yeah, it took forever to get home.

I skipped Merchants and just went home. I had some dinner, I'm watching hockey, I'm drinking beer, and I ain't going anywhere. I go to Merchants in the morning.

If some other form of transportation doesn't rise up and kill my ass first.

MDR