Dear Driver

I can’t tell if you are male or female, old or young. (Hubby would say “teenage girl”… he thinks you are ALL teenage girls…). I can’t tell if you are talking on the phone, lighting a cigarette, eating breakfast, putting on your makeup, rocking out to some funky music, reading the newspaper- a book- an e-mail, yelling at your kid, or trying to find something on the floor of your vehicle. I can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed. I can’t tell if you are sober or drunk, speeding on meth or mellow on pot. I can’t tell if you are late to work or late getting home. Is someone waiting for you to show up? I can’t tell if you are rich or poor, your car does not make any statements. I can’t tell if you are happy, or suicidal. I can’t tell if you are crazy or sane, a geniuis or idiot savant.

All I know is you are on MY side of the road! Get the FUCK back where you belong and STAY there! Dumbass.

Can you tell how my morning is going?