Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.


 Contact me at yetanotherjournal (at) mindspring (dot) com

. . . . .
. . . . .  

 
 
» Monday, December 03, 2007
Trafficking in Frustration
The cold front came through last night, whipping the shades up and sending the dog in a frenzy of barking. When I woke up I was spoiling for a migraine, so I took something for it, went back to bed until seven, then started to work. I checked the traffic report before I left, but there was just the usual problems on I-285 east, nothing on I-75 South/I-85 North, the way I usually go.

However, twenty minutes later when I reached the freeway, there was Trouble in River City. Traffic was already clotting up and I saw a rescue squad in the distance. Must be an accident at Paces Ferry. Nuts. The radio traffic report wasn't saying anything about it. However, I was already abreast the exit for Mt. Paran Road when the next traffic sign reported that the accident was four miles ahead. No one would let me get over, so I inched, in the company of hundreds of fuming commuters, down to the next exit, two miles away. This took a half hour. However, I was able to get off at Paces Ferry and go down Northside Drive, which would eventually intersect with the freeway past the accident. By then the sun was full in my eyes and I couldn't see the southbound exit signs, passed the exit and had to turn around and come back. Gah. (By the time I exited at Paces Ferry, the traffic report had not only picked up the accident, but was saying that the backup went all the way to Wade Green Road, over ten miles away, and that the approximate commute time was seventy minutes. Yow!)

Tonight there was a massive accident on I-285 Eastbound at Chamblee-Dunwoody. Same situation as this morning, three left lanes blocked. I thought about this morning as I made my way westbound, which was clotted as usual at Roswell Road and then at Northside Drive, but nothing unusual.

It took me 35 minutes to get the twenty miles from work to the International Farmer's Market on Spring Road.

It took me 35 more minutes to make it the remainder of the four miles home. Thirty of that was inching up to the intersection on Atlanta Road. From the top of the bridge I could see flashing red lights and some blue lights all the way down Atlanta Road going toward Windy Hill. I have no idea what was wrong, but after I crossed the bridge I distinctly got a quick whiff of natural gas. I wonder if the construction crew digging up the old shopping center for the new Jonquil Plaza broke a gas line? I sat there waiting at the light hoping something wouldn't explode while we were all sitting there trapped.

To top it off, I went downstairs to get the wreath for the front door and plugged it in. Nothing. Will you tell me how a string of lights that worked perfectly for a month last year and which was working perfectly well on January 6 and was then stored in an indoor, climate-controlled closet downstairs suddenly dies when plugged in eleven months later? Okay, so I had this light tester I bought from Michael's...cool! Well, until I discovered you still had to pull the stupid bulbs out to test them. What's the use in that?

It made no difference. According to the tester, we've got at least three bad bulbs and I have one, count 'em, one replacement.

Well, here's something I can do: sit down and renew the car registrations online.

Almost. I renewed James'. I couldn't do mine because I'd forgotten my car is three years old this year. It has to be inspected from now on. So I guess while James is at work on Saturday, I'll be getting the car inspected.

I was even disappointed in a small thing: I was discussing with friends that although James had to work Saturday, it turned out his compensatory day off was Tuesday, my birthday, which I was taking off, and he was taking me out to eat at the Colonnade, which has the absolutely best turkey and dressing in the entire world. (You can keep your prime rib; I'll take the t&d at the Colonnade any day.) Except the Colonnade isn't open for lunch during the week anymore. ::sigh::

Maybe on Sunday? she asked hopefully.

As Robert Hayes says in Airplane... :-)

Labels: , ,