I was out and about yesterday running errands. I do that a lot. It seems that even when I’m supposed to be doing a whole bunch of nothing, bored off my butt, that I’m always going at least fifty miles an hour. Meanwhile some people I know are all “I only had time to watch one movie and take a two hour nap today.” Bite me. Because seriously, that isn’t right unless you’re in college.

Anyway, as I was out running errands, I realized we have now passed into the holiday danger zone. It’s close to Christmas. People are getting spastic. Kids are about to go on vacation, some of ‘em starting this afternoon, so they’re rushing to get the Santa shopping done without the little monsters in tow. And they are completely not focused on driving. At all. Add a construction zone into the mix and I’m lucky the jeep and I came away unscathed.

There is just something about this time of year though, that gives people license to be complete idiots on the road. The same thing happens around the time changes each year, too. But you don’t see much of this problem near Independence Day or Halloween. Even with the fireworks and candy, those aren’t such chaotic events, I guess.

So having several errands to run, combined with some wicked bad tummy pains, I was in the jeep braving the elements. See, down here in Texas, we don’t really get snow or ice, so our elements are “traffic” and water. It’s the wrong time of year for a flood – not saying it couldn’t happen, just that it’s the wrong time of year. So all I’ve got left to bear is the possibility of vehicular drama.

When I was turning left into the bank, just this side of a traffic light working in my favor, some idiot comes around the corner and absolutely floors it. He could see me midway across the three lanes and I guess he decided I looked like a nice shiny target because I could hear the rev of his engine. Maybe he was hopped up on candy cane lattes from Starbucks. Or he’d overdosed on rolled and iced sugar cookies. But for some reason, he punched it, so I had to hit it faster than I wanted, and entered the bank parking lot with a bit of an airborne screech when the tires finally came back to the ground.

I don’t even want to go into the fa-la-la-la-lahhhhooooohhhh-sh*ts of getting home from the hardware store with an overly large plank of wood hogging the back seat of the jeep. Needless to say, I wasn’t singing any carols, and people were giving me the hairy eyeball even as I stayed in my lane. It seems they wanted to be where I was, no matter where I was. It was like that in the store, too, which is insane, because hellooooooooo? Home Depot doesn’t exactly have small aisles, so you really don’t have to be in the exact spot where I am standing this instant. It’s not like I’m looting the store. I promise that I won’t clean the place out of finishing nails before you can get what you need. I won’t take the last thirty dozen eggs at the grocery store, either.

People, relax. It’s Christmas. Be merry and bright.