Another Day, Another Ten Cents

In today’s corporate world, regular employees enjoy few privileges which are not available to senior management. 

Late employees can’t be choosers.

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Anger and frustration simmer inside me as I reach the end of the freeway.  

Now comes the fun part - the bank up.  

A bottleneck occurs at the end of the freeway, resulting in a massive pile up of cars. Essentially, this involves a thirty minute period of sitting in the car in the middle of the road,  putting up with the bad taste of music of the driver next to me and creeping forward about two meters once every forty five seconds.  

This morning is no different. After the last 15 minutes of cutting and weaving, I finally reach the point where I have to slow down and come to a complete stop about 350m from the end of the freeway.  

Twenty seconds later, the lane on my right starts moving. Six cars pass and I see a small opportunity to move into that lane. Quickly, I take my opportunity and change lanes, prompting an angry horn blast from a driver two lanes over who had the same idea.  

Immediately, my new lane comes to a standstill and the lane I just changed from starts to move. Damn. I have to change back. Let’s see, now… no, no, no, oh here’s a chance. Quick, if I move now…oh bugger! The bloke behind me has got in first. Bugger! 

All I can do is sit hopelessly and watch as my lane remains at a standstill and car after car passes by in the lane I was in previously. Another small chance…Quick glance over the shoulder…clear…go! Yes, made it. Great … as if on cue, the lane I move into comes to an immediate standstill. The lane I changed out of starts moving again.  

Maybe it’s just easier to stay in one lane! 

Fuming mad, I pound the steering wheel with my fists, and utter some words which cannot be repeated. I look at my watch – twelve past eight – and then utter more words which cannot be repeated.  

But all I can do is sit and wait… and wait…and wait…

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Seven thirty-five, my watch ominously says.  

Oh golly! Seven thirty five! I’m dead. One dead man!  

Office hours begin at eight thirty. Timing is crucial. If I leave by seven twenty, I beat the traffic, cruise down the freeway, get a dream run and arrive comfortably in the office at about ten past eight. I even have time to tuck my shirt in and fix my tie before my boss arrives. 

However, like clockwork, the traffic starts to build up on the freeway at around seven forty-five. If I don’t leave before seven thirty, like this morning and indeed, like most mornings, I get caught in the bank up.  

That’s just plain bad news. After the bank up starts, the trip down the freeway can be divided into two parts – the rally car racing for the majority of the way (see below) and the bank up at the end (see next post).  

This morning is no different. The freeway resembles more of a dodgem car ring than a road, except that the cars are traveling at 100 kilometers an hour. I approach it like a rally car driver on a race track. I weave in and out of traffic, take any opportunities to overtake or cut in front of other vehicles and try to block others from cutting in.   

It’s like navigating a space shuttle through an asteroid field. Some days I get through this by concentrating really hard. Other days, I just close my eyes and use the force. Today, I choose the latter approach. 

I once believed that driver courtesy was a virtue, that a little human kindness went a long way.  

But experience has taught me better. It’s a mug’s game out there. It’s every man for himself. If you’re too kind, people take advantage of you and cut in on your lane. It’s war on the freeway and you gotta be prepared for battle.  

Nice guys don’t win.

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The engine turns for three seconds and then stops dead. OK, let’s give her a little power and try again. I put my foot down lightly on the accelerator. 

The engine turns over and then “Broom broom, broom .. sputter sputter sputter” .. dead. Oh dear. Try again. More power this time. 

The engine turns over. “Broom, broom broom broom brooooooom broooooooooom” “Yes!” I pound the steering wheel. “Come on, come on, come on come on!” “..sputter sputter sputter ..” “Come on baby, don’t let me down now!” “.. sputter, sputter .. dead.”  One more try. 

The engine turns over “Broom, broom, broom, brooooooom ,brom, broom brooooooom,” Yes, finally. I put her in reverse and start back out of the driveway, knocking over the letterbox yet again.   

I back out into the street, attempt to change out of reverse and into first gear, and then ‘sputter, sputter … dead.’ She stalls on me in the middle of the street. 

The engine turns over and this time, THIS TIME, she finally gets going for good. Naturally, the heater doesn’t work and it’s freezing cold. 

My day can only get better from here. Things are looking up.

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Think positive. Things will be different on this wonderful, freezing cold Monday morning. 

The car will start first time. All traffic lights will be green. There will be no delays due to road works, broken down vehicles or accidents. The traffic will be lighter than usual and I will get a nice smooth run.  

Because it’s Monday, other drivers will be in a courteous, considerate, relaxed and calm state of mind. They will kindly allow me ample space whenever I need to change lanes. They will not exert any form of aggression whatsoever, be it with  horn, finger or fist.      

I will arrive at work on time, pumped and ready for the new week. My bosses and co-workers will be in a great mood and will greet each other with big smiles on their faces. Full of optimism, their passion for teamwork, co-operation and a positive work environment will stand out in every way. The entire office will be abuzz with the dynamic and vibrant atmosphere of employees who have been liberated from the burden of having to spend an entire two days away from the place they love so dearly – their office or cubicle. 

With a positive thought and a smile, I turn the key of my 30 year old Volkswagon.

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“I’m off mum,” I yell as I go to walk out the door. “Bye.” 

Finally – departure authorization granted.

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Got em. My favorite pair of blue and white boxer shorts - the ones with the characters from Lord of the Rings.  

Next stage - getting past mum in the kitchen. 

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I jump straight into a stone cold sixty second shower.  

Nevertheless, a cold shower is still less enjoyable than a tetanus injection.

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“Ouuuuuugh!” I rub my eyes and take a bigggg stretch.  

Wobblewobblewobblewobble. I shake my head from side to side in a vain attempt to jolt my mind and body into some form of operating functionality. I commence a sluggish amble toward the bathroom.   

Thhhuuddd! Ahhhhhhhh! What the bloody hell was that? Oh. It was that bloody briefcase! I’ve tripped over it and fallen flat on my face. It kills!  

I raise myself up slowly and glance back at the love of my life – my bed. In just sixteen hours, we can be reunited.  

In my imagination, my bed is talking to me. It is saying “Lie back dow-wn! Hey, Stewie, it’s cold out there. Lie back down for a few hours in comfort and warmth. Call in sick today. You can even have one of your favorite Jennifer Anniston dreams!” 

Sounds tempting, but I have to resist. 

Time to face a new week in this wonderful life of mine, where I get to deal with an a*** h*** boss, constant demands from arrogant line managers, zero subordinates, traffic chaos, a nagging mother, massive unpaid debts on car and student loans and zero girlfriends.  

Another exciting week in the life of Stewart Robertson! I can hardly wait. Let me at it!

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Do I really have to get up and go to work now?  

I’m so warm and cozy. The thought of getting up and facing a new week seems too unbearable to contemplate. Surely I can just keep lying here for another five minutes, can’t I? (and then another five minutes, and then five more minutes after that, and so on) 

No… I am running late for work … I am running out of excuses for being late for work …. I will probably lose my job (again) if I don’t get up now…. And I have to get up at some time anyway. So bugger, yeah.  I do have to get up now.   

With a great deal of reluctance, my right arm crosses over my body and grabs hold of my blanket from underneath on the left side of the bed. I then swing my arm back across my body in a short, sharp motion, casting aside my cozy, warm, snuggly blanket and exposing my body to the reality of the day.  

I roll over slightly and transfer my weight to the right side of my body. Pressing the upper part of my right arm against the right side of the bed, I use all of physical mental and emotional strength I can muster to roll swiftly back over to my other side. In the same action, I swivel my body so that my legs swing around sharply off the lower part of the bed and in the direction of the floor. My left arm gently braces against the mattress in order to support my upper body and prevent my entire body from simply rolling out onto the floor in one messy heap.  

I gently lower my legs on to the floor. Then, in a single slow, gradual motion, I pull myself up to the point where I am standing up straight.  

I have just overcome life’s most difficult challenge.

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