Strange Pulse

My commute on a good day is an hour. My commute on a bad day is an hour and a half, and usually involves something like, you know, a car on fire. The worst commute I’ve had? 2 hours. The best? 35 minutes.

I don’t mind an hour. (I’m talking each way.) But anything longer than that and it can really, really wear on me. An hour wears on me (two hours a day!), but I can deal with it. I love my job. And I like having the music-listening time.

My husband hates that I get home so late (around 7:30, generally). He just doesn’t seem to understand that leaving work earlier does not garauntee I’ll get home earlier. In fact it often results in a much longer commute home and a much grumpier wife walking in the door.

I’ve been super-stressed out lately because I’ve had a freelance project I’m working on at home. I don’t get much time at home so having it eaten up by work can be really stressful. I just finished it, though, and I’m hoping to get caught up on housework this weekend (instead of working), esp since my in-laws are going to be here in a couple weeks.

Things I’ve noticed about the freeway in LA:

• That movie by Steve Martin called LA Story, where he talks to a billboard, and it talks back? Totally makes sense now. I’ll tune out during my drive, not pay attention to where I am, then tune back in to check how far I’ve driven. I’ll look up and see a sign. “I’m only to the Lexus billboard?”
• It bothered me when I moved here and heard people calling I-5 “the Five.” It’s not “the Five,” it’s I-5! But I’ve come to realize that in Seattle there are only two freeways–I-5, and 405 (and hwy 167 if you’re down south). But in LA/Orange County, you have the 405, the 105, the 10, the 110, the 90, the 91, the 55, the 57, the 605, the 22, and yes, I’ll say it–the Five.
• There are huge signs with big screens that almost look like tv screens all over the place. I can’t believe more accidents don’t happen because of them. This morning as I was driving to work the car ahead of me slammed on their brakes, totally skidding out, burning rubber, to avoid hitting the car in front of it that had slowed down. Because the driver ahead of me was distracted by a big screen advertising the startup of Prisonbreak on Mar 20th at 8pm on Fox. (I’m smart enough to leave lots of space between me and the car ahead of me when I’m watching tv on the freeway.)

When we needed a new car, my dad warned me buying a used car in southern Cali was a bad idea, because people are so hard on their cars here. You know, because everyone commutes so far and drives so fast (80 on the freeway). The commuting far is true. The driving fast? Only on non-peak hours, which around here are weekends, and after 8pm. I’m lucky if I’m going 40 on the freeway.

Cops aren’t allowed to set up speed traps, though. Which is REALLY nice. In Seattle, they were always lurking, and always causing huge back ups in traffic.

I’ve figured out a different route on my way to work that takes me off of the 405 before the LAX bottleneck, where there’s a bunch of construction that makes traffic stop and it takes 30 minutes to go 3 miles. I get off earlier and go down by the shore. It’s a really nice drive, much faster (15 minutes at the most), and on a clear day, it’s really breathtaking. Of course, clear days are rare, but they’ve been happening more often than you’d think, based on how everyone complains about the smog in LA. I get a view of all the mountains, can even see the Hollywood sign–didn’t know I worked so close to Hollywood.

Sometimes I go over and drive right down along the beach, too, and it’s gorgeous.