A Quarter Life Crisis

On my way back from Lansdale visiting with my Godson I was nearly killed by flood waters. When I say flood waters I mean my car was almost an ark and I could have been Noah (you know the cute black girl version). It's bad enough rt 309 has been under construction since I was in a training bra (and we know that was a long time ago) but to add to my misery sweeping wafts of fog rose from the streets and route 309 employs the poorest lighting system known to man.

I departed my friend's apartment around 11PM on a drive that consistently takes 30 minutes give or take 5 while speeding. It didn't appear so bad outside, true the rain just started but based on the meteorologist that lives in my head, I could beat the storm. Knowing that weatherman get paid to lie regularly to the public (similar to politicians) should have been the light bulb warning sign that racing the storm would end badly for me. By the time I reached route 309 in all it's lovely pitch blackness golf ball sized raindrops were shooting from the sky in violent fury. (I added this line for dramatic flair)

Battling the rain was futile. My windshield wipers flying at speeds I can't even count per minute didn't help. Or did help to make me even more frustrated that they weren't helping me see. It's funny how a clear pane of glass works the same as blackboard when there's fog, lack of proper lighting and sheets of rain spewing. To say it was pouring was an understatement. I decided hydro plating would probably be the life or the party but luckily I was able to settle for seeing the sides of my car get swallowed by pools of rainwater.

Never one to let the element get the best of me I shrugged off the voice in my gut screaming get off 309, find another way home, sleep on your friends couch or in your car for that matter, and continued the voyage homeward. The highlight of this trip was nearly missing the family of deer trying desperately to cross the highway and find shelter from the storm and almost losing my mirror to the guardrail. I blame that in part on the wonderful construction that's been going on since "The Flood" (for those of you unfamiliar think Genesis in the beginning) and the tall wooden polls every 20ft or so posing as lights.

So nearly clipping my mirror sent me into a tizzy. I began violently cursing at the nothing in front of me and the ripped up highway below me for no one's benefit but my own. First off I think the construction guys did this on purpose. Someone tell me why there's about 5 sets of painted lines dividing a two lane highway going in diagonals to the right and left when the highway is mostly straight? The painted white lines are supposed to help you maintain your lane but when they crisscross in funny little patterns it's kind of hard to follow. And at 11PM when rod like beams masquerade as light posts, rains falling faster than the exchange rate of the dollar and fog's playing peek-a-boo with the street and the hood of my car a 30 minute trip slowly escalated to an 1hr ride from hell.

Luckily I made it home in one piece and even if I didn't I had on clean underwear so if I did get rushed to the ER and they had to rip my clothes off my mom would be proud that I wasn't in soiled undergarments. But the absolute bottom line to this story is PA really needs to think of a better lighting system than I don't know decorative totem poles and come on with the construction already it's been going on for what seems like a century.

GET ER DONE!