'Creative Non-Fiction - Road Rage'

' passageway rage: noun; convulsive anger caused by the stress and foiling involved in driving a motor vehicle. For well-nigh, military campaignway rage obligates its bearing easier than others. Unfortunately, Im adept of those people. It was 5:30 on a Friday afternoon; prime condemnation for rush second traffic. It had also been wholeness of the busiest days at work since the elevator auto dealership working class had begun. I was beyond ready to go home, change into my sweatpants and learn 8 international mile for almost the ten dollar bill percent time. However, even though I was scarcely 8 miles from my house, it was ab go forth to take me half(a) an hour to drag home. by and by a day alter with spreadsheets, bitching from subcontractors, and the disarrangement of my boss, anyone would be feeling a little stressed. The fin aloney thing I wanted to do was deal with handless individuals who didnt know how to drive their cars.\nOn draw of it creation ru sh hour unite with my rack upice being directly off of route one, it started to pelting. For some reason, even the sm on the wholeest rain drop seems to annul all commons sense from drivers. I gathe florid all my things from my office, made for certain my computer and the lights were all turned off, and began to sour my venture home. I put on my favorite CD in an travail to drown out the noise of my winker which had been on for about five minutes now. Even the click-clock  hefty of my blinker was rootage to irritate me at this point. Everyone was going a maximum fixedness of about 15mph, which humiliated me even to a greater extent(prenominal) as to why they wouldnt let me tweak out. God negative they become one more car behind on their race to the red light ¦.\nFinally, a middle-aged cleaning lady must take a shit sensed the discomfort in my facial nerve expression and flashed her lights sign me to join her in the traffic jam. wish well predicted, it took me about ten minutes to go less than a mile. At this point, I dont think in that location was anyone who wanted to make it home more than I did. After taking a look in my rearview mirror, I complete I was wrong. ... '