The Facts of Life Are All About...Traffic

One of the things you have to accept as a matter of course for living in this area is traffic. It is, simply, a fact of life. It doesn't matter if it's rush hour or not, when you live in a major metropolitan area that also happens to be smack in the middle of the only North-South interstate on the east coast, well...traffic happens. Because people are forever deciding to drive from Canada to Florida and back again with starts and stops from all other points in between. These people all flood through our already excessively populated area and just add to the fun. Let alone the headaches caused by various visiting dignitaries.

So, when you live here, you begin to realize that you can't plan your life around the traffic or you will, in very short order, have no life. You will be home bound. Because I hit traffic just going to the grocery store - and that doesn't even involve major roads.

A little over a month ago I planned an outing to Hillwood as a birthday gift for my mother-in-law. I even went so far as to make reservations for both the house and tea. As with most reservations of this sort, it involved prepaying. I'm fairly sure this is a non-refundable prepayment as well.

And now, because she's freaking out about the traffic, I'm laying odds that she's going to cancel. I've fielded three panicked phone calls already this morning - because you see, the Pope has decided to come to town. Well, yes, it probably will involve slightly heavier traffic - but having checked what I can of his route vs. where we're going, I don't actually think we're in danger of any overlap. Plus, she's not driving. She just has to sit in the car. So far she says she's going to trust me that it'll be fine - but the day is young. My guess is that I'm going to be scrambling tomorrow morning to find two extra people to go with me so I haven't just wasted the entry fees.

Pushing aside the fact that this is just like them - and I knew better than to make a reservation I had to pay for, I did - I even commented to myself that it was stupid as I was giving the nice man my credit card number. I am simply astounded that having lived here for going on two years she is still trying to manage her life so that she doesn't encounter traffic. Don't get me wrong, I whine about the traffic. Tim whines about the traffic. Everyone around here whines about the traffic - it's a regional passtime. But at the end of the day, we still put on our shoes and leave the house and cross our fingers that we've padded our departure time enough that we'll still make our estimated arrival time. And if not? Just about everyone around here understands if you smile, look harried, and mention one little word, "Traffic."