The Car Commute

Recently, I've done a little bit of car-commuting. I am part of a committee that included 4 days of training at the District Office. There isn't a direct bus route to the district office, though I have made it there without a car on several occasions. Generally, the carless commute includes a couple miles of running to get to the DO, a different bus line, and a couple miles of walking home. I've enjoyed these commutes even though they require much more time and planning. However, I decided to give myself a break and do some car-commuting. This allowed me to pack a lunch and carry my books. It also allowed me to arrive home especially early since I didn't have to engage in the usual duties that are required of me after the school day ends.

The commute is an easy one: about 8 miles, mostly highway miles, and mostly opposite of traffic. I welcomed the change. What I find about car-commuting is that from the instant I start driving to the instant I stop driving, I feel like I should already be home. Every minute that I sit in the car feels like a wasted minute. Even though my bus-commute adds 5-10 minutes to my daily commute, these minutes don't feel wasted. They are minutes where I am walking outside, eavesdropping on nearby conversations, reading a book, or chatting with the bus driver. For me, these are leisure minutes that are planned into every one of my bus-commute days. Car-commuting may get me to where I'm going with greater speed, but every minute feels wasted.

So, by the fourth day of car-commuting, the change had overstayed its welcome. I hit a few consecutive lights trying to get on the highway. By this time I had already zoned out and detached myself from the driving experience. My zone-out was interrupted by a truck that stopped next to me. The truck rumbled with bass, louder than I have heard in a dance club. The driver had his window open but seemed oblivious to the world around him. As I sat at the light, I realized that my car and I were physically vibrating along with the truck. I was so angered by this inconsiderate driver and felt that his actions were on par with the smoker who blows secondhand smoke directly into another's face. The red light seemed to go on endlessly until I finally shouted at the driver. If the music wasn't present, he would have been in earshot, and for some reason I believed he might hear me. He didn't. Even worse, I realized that the driver mindset had returned. It crept up so suddenly that I didn't see it coming. I refocused myself to get home safe and sound, in the mental sense. I went for a run to cleanse myself of my driving life.

I loved my bus-commute to work this morning.