Vehicular Touretts

I suffer from what my dad has termed 'Vehicular Touretts".  No, it's not a true medical condition, but I do blame my dad for passing it along.  I have no patience for rubber-neckers, people who drive way under the speed limit, and drivers who insist on hanging out in the fast lane even though they, themselves, are not keeping up with the flow of traffic.

This morning, as I was driving out of my apartment parking lot, I got stuck behind a granny mobile except that the granny was in the passenger seat, not behind the wheel. Seriously, it's ok to drive faster than 2 mph in the parking lot at 6:45 a.m.  It's ok to accelerate once you're out on the road.  It's ok to NOT stop at the green light before making a right hand turn.  As soon as they were around the corner, I floored it and zoomed past them.  (Of course I was muttering to myself and I may have let slip "what is this?  old folks day on the road?"  It's a dad-ism.) 

I tried not to let this put me in a 'mood'.  I did get a chuckle listening to the radio.  That song "I've got a pair of brand new roller-skates, you've got a brand new key..."  was up against "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" on the Battle of the Bad 70s Bands.

As I'm driving to a spot in the parking garage:  "Hey!  Dude in the Saturn...  You don't have to use your signal as you're driving around and around and up and up in the parking garage to get to your spot."   Really!

Fortunately, for me, I didn't have any "Vehicular Touretts" outbursts on the way home.  

I certainly was glad when quitting time rolled around.  I'd been dealing with some 'challenging' users and I'd had enough for the day.  I had to cancel my appointment with Steve because I didn't get out of work until almost 4:00.  (Sorry, no tales of woe from the gym today.)

I was starving and decided that I didn't want to cook dinner, so I ran by Cafe Rio for a pork tostada.  When I got home, the lid on the dressing had come off and it was all over the bag. Bummer for me.  Dry salad.  Not so delicioso.

After trying to salvage the dressing, I walked into my room to kick off my shoes and what do you know....  I had a guest in my bed.  (No, he wasn't tall, dark and handsome.  Dang!)  Yep, the baby bird from last night was perched on the towel I'd flung on my bed post.  He was fast asleep.  He didn't move, didn't even open an eye.  I snapped my fingers, clapped loudly, whistled - nothing.

So, I decided that maybe I should try to trap him and get him back outside.  I think he was tuckered out from lack of food.  (I honestly have no idea where he hid last night.  I looked everywhere for him and didn't find him.  He wasn't around when I got up this morning.  I thought he'd flown out last night.  Guess not...)

I grabbed my colander from the kitchen, started sneaking up on him, and of course, when I'm being quiet, he opens his eyes and stares right at me.  I stopped, held my breath, waiting for the flapping about to start, but he wasn't afraid at all.  He totally stayed still.  

I slowly settled the colander over the top of him, grabbed up the towel underneath and he hopped out onto my bed.  hmph.  Ok, let's try this again.  Colander back over him, slowly slide him to the edge of the bed and onto the towel.  Run like a mad woman to the patio and gently set him onto the floor.  

He was so cute.  He blinked and then rubbed his head against the ground.  I shut the door so he couldn't get back in.  When I looked out 5 minutes later, he was gone.  

Now, my hunt is on to make sure he didn't poop anywhere.  So far, so good, but I've yet to find his hide-out.