The Four Stages of Traffic-Induced Lunacy

Observed over the past two snowy mornings while stuck in traffic for 2+ hours:

1. The False Optimism/Complete Denial Stage

“There won’t be much traffic today,” I tell myself every single morning as I start my car. I repeat this to myself even as I clear several inches of snow off my car, as I shovel the snow in my driveway so I can back my car out, and as I inch my way down the street at the thrill-inducing speed of 5 km/h. “It won’t be that bad. It can’t be that bad.”

Optimism quickly gives way to brief period of denial when I finally see cars lined up on the main boulevard near my house leading to the highway on-ramp, meaning its at least a 20 minutes wait to even get onto the ramp. “This is NOT happening. No!” I’ll say out loud, to no one in particular.

2. The “Triple A” (Annoyance, Angst & Anger) Stage

“This totally bites.”

This ushers in the second stage, when everyone on the road who doesn’t let me into their lane has delivered me a personal insult. A lot of sighing in frustration, a lot of drinking of coffee and lot of directing unkind thoughts at other drivers who wrong me are part of this stage. The prospect of spending an additional hour or two on top of the hour I usually take to travel to work, the whole idea of wasting time and the fact that I’ll have to stay late at work gives me a lot of angst. And a stomachache too, but I’m thinking that’s probably from the coffee.


3. General Giddiness Stage

Having been kept in my car for too long (not too much unlike a prisoner who has been kept in solitary confinement), my foul mood subsides. Suddenly, everything is hysterically funny. The radio deejays are hilarious. Ugly fixed-up cars are cause for outright mockery. Peculiarly enough, I find myself bopping my head and singing along to bad 80’s music and (gasp) Celine Dion. Alex, who I carpool with, and normally by this stage has been picked up, is a witness to this strange madness. He laughs along at my madcap antics. Or maybe he’s only pretending to laugh along and is silently hoping the ride will be over soon.

4. The Oh-My-Goodness-Nature’s-Call-Couldn’t-Be-Any-Louder-Nor-Clearer or the I-Need-to-Go-to-the- Bathroom-NOW Stage

The consequences are having drained my coffee mug empty 2 hours before have now come to haunt me, threatening to back up into my kidneys and making every pothole or bump on the road I drive over utterly and totally painful. Every spray of washer fluid on my windshield seems to taunt me.

Suddenly, I can’t wait to get to work.