Feeling Old, Creeped Out and Just Plain Lazy

Now that the kiddies are back in school, my commute to work has returned to being much longer (we’re talking close to an hour and a half). I don’t get it. The kids take buses to school, right? Are there THAT many teachers in Connecticut? Are they ALL driving south on the Merritt Parkway?

So, needless to say, I’ve been stuck in traffic ever since I got back from Vegas (Talk about a buzz kill. What a way to come back after a relaxing trip – hours of traffic! Woo hoo!).

And the radio? Has not been my friend.

Ever notice how you can never find anything to listen to on any of the 27 pre-set stations or the why-am-I-paying-for-this Sirius radio channels? And when you DO finally find something, there's also 5 other songs you love on other stations at the very same time. So you flip back and forth trying to decide which one to listen to ("wait, this is the remix version!" and "it's at the part I like when she starts talking!") until you've wasted so much time all of the songs are over?

But, I digress.

This morning I was doing my usual surfing through the stations when I stopped on the Oldies station. Back in high school I worked at an apothecary and the pharmacist would ONLY play the Oldies station. So, by default, I know just about every Oldies song there is out there (it’s not like they can come out with new ones!). Plus, whenever I drive anywhere with my Dad, that’s all he listens to. The music has sort of grown on me (Remember the Dirty Dancing soundtrack? Classic!) So when I’m looking for mindless radio, I sometimes stop there.

This morning, on the Oldies station, was none other than Huey Lewis!

Yes! Huey Lewis! Singing “Stuck With You”!

Since when are Huey Lewis songs considered Oldies???

And, more importantly, does this mean that I am old???

That song came out in 1986. Yes, it was 22 years ago (gulp!), but still – an Oldie???

Just when I was sitting in traffic, marveling at Huey and feeling old, this blue kidnapping van pulls up next to me.
(I call all beat-up vans with no or tinted windows and out-of-state plates kidnapping vans. Um, did you see Silence Of The Lambs???)

The driver is a scrawny, greasy young guy, toothpick dangling from his lip, cell phone attached to his ear. He is staring at me. (Insert retching noise here).

Now I can’t go anywhere because we are in traffic. I can feel his eyes boring a hole into the side of my head, and I am doing everything I can to not look his way.

But then, he beeps his horn. And as a natural reaction, I turn my head. He gives me a lascivious smile and winks at me, then blows me a kiss.

Ew. Gross.

Upon arriving at work I get an email from a friend in Boston, with pictures of her recent participation in a triathlon.

A triathlon!

She’s the mother of two little boys and a Vice President of her company, yet she still found the time to train for this crazy race.

Me? I can’t find the time to open my mail.

And I’m lucky I have the energy to drive home after work, let alone go biking for 10 miles.

But I HAVE instituted a new exercise regime (read: I’ve walked around the neighborhood the last two mornings). No, I don't have a number inked on my leg, but I DO get up at 5:45am.

Hey, it’s something.