I-215 and Albert Einstein

I realize that my last post was quite long. The story was not written for the purpose of posting as a blog, but I decided that it would become so. If any of you read this next one, realize that it is fraught with over dramatics and frustrations. Shaun.

Speed. Speed is something that I don’t get to achieve very often in my daily, rigorous, soul-sucking commute from Orem to Salt Lake and vice versa. Speed, however, is my daily goal. It is something that I wish for, I long for. It’s more important than air or water sometimes. I feel like I will shrivel up and wither away in a desolate waste if I do not achieve a certain velocity that I know is possible.
Stuck in traffic has become a ritual of my life that I cannot escape. I believe Einstein said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Well, Mr. Einstein, if that is true, than my friends, I am as loony as Ute fans. A misguided soul that believes in something that will never come true. For me it is an open road and thoughts free of envy from the guy who is two cars in front of me. For Ute’s it is the belief that if their team wins, that they will be redeemed and justified as the insecure, delusional spectator of an anti-establishment. Neither hope will come to fruition. However, we still hope. Such is the human spirit. Even the most desolate of persons have even a filament of hope in their lives. My hope happens to be petty and unattainable.
The day ends at work and I make the long walk to my car. I tend to park toward the back of the parking lot. This isolated parking slot allows me to play loud music during my breaks so as not to disturb the banality of corporate life. This has the propensity of melting away the frustrations like a child’s ice cream in the middle of a summer day. When I finally reach the inviolability of the escort, I realize that I have already formed beads of sweat in the nape of my neck. Not from the long lonely walk in the cold winter air, but from the thought of the four letter word, traffic. I’ve learned to prepare myself for the battle that lies ahead the best I can.
On the freeway as I approach the impending doom of cars piled upon one another as if rats scampering out of a poisonous hole, I release an audible sigh as once again the hope I preached about earlier is gone. In one simple moment it has gone like the open road that could have been. But I march forward and realize that tomorrow is another day, full of hopes and thoughts of freedom. I am the Ute fan that excites themselves for the fall but come the first game realize that it was all for naught and I am left with the thoughts of tomorrow bringing more optimism. Insanity indeed.