Openly Weeping in Traffic...
...will be the next step. Sorry if this is a little obsessive.
Because I have a long journey home at night, 85 of your English miles around about, I have developed an aversion to sitting in traffic unnecessarily. This means I typically arrive at work in the morning between 7.30 and 7.45 in the a.m. Which means I am leaving of the home at around 10 past of the six in the morn.
Dark dark dark.
Really, by 4.30 in the afterlife, I have achieved a full working day, and it would seem like punishment to remain at my desk any longer. I tried hanging around till 5 of the pee, but started to leave a little bit earlier to avoid some Bad Things.
The Bad Things to which I refer are random trammage and frustrating red lightage around the Wilkinson Street tram depot. You end up having these mini-waits over and over again, first to pull out onto the main road, then to turn right at the tramlights, and then a completely random and vindictive red light for no reason whatsoever on Wilkinson Street itself.
I found that if I was leaving the office car park at around 4.48 p.m., the pain of these Bad Things was considerably less. I've found over the months of the long commute that 3 or 4 minutes can make an enormous difference to the overall journey time. In the morning, arriving at J26 of the M1 5 minutes earlier than I had been, I discovered there was almost no queue. 10 minutes after that, you're queuing from the half-mile Exit sign. Another 5 minutes, and it's the full mile. I do not exaggerate. Much.
Anyway, I've found that if I can get away from the office and reach the ring road in 5 mins or less (4 is ideal, 3 is possible), the journey up the A610 Speed Trap Alley to J26 is much less painful. I can, for example, be leaving the office car park at 4.44 p.m. and arrive at the motorway slip road just before 5 p.m.
So it has been, for a while now. You get random bad days, but nothing you can't cope with.
Then the clocks went back.
What the fuck is it with people? Would they really rather make my life a misery than change their freaking clocks? Haven't I done enough, sacrificing precious sleep time to rouse myself at an unearthly hour and dress in the dark in non-mathcing socks and an inside-out shirt? Why do they have to come and piss on my 4.44 parade? Bastards!
This week has just been torture. Suddenly, there are millions more cars on the road at a quarter to five. Where did they all come from? Can't their employers force them to work till five? Doubling the time it takes to reach the ring road means I meet double the amount of traffic, and have to crawl along wondering why the FUCK people can't get into gear and pull away in a timely manner when the lights change. Last night, it took me till 5.20 in the p.m. to reach the motorway. Twenty. Extra. Minutes. Because of four additional minutes at the beginning of my journey.
I know we all sit in traffic and that I am not unique, but please. Think of the children.
P.S. The heavier traffic this week has also caused me to use a full 8 litres of diesel more than I would have. True!
Because I have a long journey home at night, 85 of your English miles around about, I have developed an aversion to sitting in traffic unnecessarily. This means I typically arrive at work in the morning between 7.30 and 7.45 in the a.m. Which means I am leaving of the home at around 10 past of the six in the morn.
Dark dark dark.
Really, by 4.30 in the afterlife, I have achieved a full working day, and it would seem like punishment to remain at my desk any longer. I tried hanging around till 5 of the pee, but started to leave a little bit earlier to avoid some Bad Things.
The Bad Things to which I refer are random trammage and frustrating red lightage around the Wilkinson Street tram depot. You end up having these mini-waits over and over again, first to pull out onto the main road, then to turn right at the tramlights, and then a completely random and vindictive red light for no reason whatsoever on Wilkinson Street itself.
I found that if I was leaving the office car park at around 4.48 p.m., the pain of these Bad Things was considerably less. I've found over the months of the long commute that 3 or 4 minutes can make an enormous difference to the overall journey time. In the morning, arriving at J26 of the M1 5 minutes earlier than I had been, I discovered there was almost no queue. 10 minutes after that, you're queuing from the half-mile Exit sign. Another 5 minutes, and it's the full mile. I do not exaggerate. Much.
Anyway, I've found that if I can get away from the office and reach the ring road in 5 mins or less (4 is ideal, 3 is possible), the journey up the A610 Speed Trap Alley to J26 is much less painful. I can, for example, be leaving the office car park at 4.44 p.m. and arrive at the motorway slip road just before 5 p.m.
So it has been, for a while now. You get random bad days, but nothing you can't cope with.
Then the clocks went back.
What the fuck is it with people? Would they really rather make my life a misery than change their freaking clocks? Haven't I done enough, sacrificing precious sleep time to rouse myself at an unearthly hour and dress in the dark in non-mathcing socks and an inside-out shirt? Why do they have to come and piss on my 4.44 parade? Bastards!
This week has just been torture. Suddenly, there are millions more cars on the road at a quarter to five. Where did they all come from? Can't their employers force them to work till five? Doubling the time it takes to reach the ring road means I meet double the amount of traffic, and have to crawl along wondering why the FUCK people can't get into gear and pull away in a timely manner when the lights change. Last night, it took me till 5.20 in the p.m. to reach the motorway. Twenty. Extra. Minutes. Because of four additional minutes at the beginning of my journey.
I know we all sit in traffic and that I am not unique, but please. Think of the children.
P.S. The heavier traffic this week has also caused me to use a full 8 litres of diesel more than I would have. True!
posted by Anonymous at
Thursday, November 10, 2005
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