I'm not sure that I believe there is a such thing as hell, but if there is, I AM quite sure about how it will feel.
Just like downtown Boston during the Big Dig. Seriously. The worst part about the Big Dig isn't the mind-bending traffic, although that is bad, or the constant banging, whirring, screeching sounds, although that is bad too, or the fact that all of Massachusetts' money is going to fund this never-ending project, even though that stinks.
No, it isn't any of that. It is the fact that every ever-loving day, I drive to work. And EVERY DAY, the road is different.
Yesterday, the left lane was a turn left only lane and the middle and right lanes went straight. This would make sense, because across the street, the road is only 2 lanes, not three. But TODAY, today the left lane also goes straight. And this morning I found myself crossing the intersection between a school bus and a huge freight truck, and they both began to squish me between them in their effort to enter the two lane road ahead of us.
The turn onto the 93 highway used to be on the right, with a somewhat clearly marked sign. Now, the entry is on the left side, with no sign letting you know in advance that it has changed. It has been 3 weeks since that change, and I promise you, there has not been one morning that a driver from the right hand lane hasn't zoomed in front of me turning left, almost causing an accident. Every. Single. Morning.
Last week, I turned right into my building off of the main road. This week, I have to do a complicated series of turns, that are not explained nor are they labeled, in order to make it into my parking lot.
The other night when I took a cab back to my car from the movie, the cab driver got so hopelessly lost that he threw his hands up in the air and turned off the meter. When we finally pulled up in front of my building, he dejectedly said, "pay whatever you want."
There are also no crosswalks, because the street is littered with crushed concrete and spray painted arrows and unintelligible symbols that allegedly make sense to the construction folks, so on top of everything else, there are people crossing in the middle of the street. They just pop up between parked cars and big piles of dirt to take years away from my life.
Every night, it takes me half an hour or more to go the 10 blocks until the freeway. At least a half-hour. This week, I've endeavored to work from home past 7pm just to avoid that traffic. The words that spew from my mouth would make sailors blush.
This morning, though, after almost getting crushed between the school bus and the freight truck, there was a final indignity. Look at the new drivers on the road:
10 miles per hour, people, 10 MILES PER HOUR. I think I need a drink, and it is only 9:30am.