The Commute

Well, we are on our way to work once again, in the frozen tundra now known as Georgia. The roads aren't bad at all. But we are on the Interstate so that's the difference, I guess. Surface streets are still pretty bad.

Yesterday when I left my home I slid down my driveway. Really fast, too. I bounced and ended up almost in my neighbor's front yard. It was pretty scary. No damage to my vehicle which is good and I also narrowly missed the telephone pole which, again, is good. This morning it was dry so no problems at all, however, when I got to Hank's (my carpool buddy) house, I parked my Pilot, gathered my belongings, and got out of the vehicle. I walked maybe four feet and promptly was on my ass. His driveway was pretty icy and I hit a patch just right. Short of a pretty sore elbow, I'm none the worse for wear. Nothing that a bottle of German wine won't cure.

The biggest hazard I've seen on the highway, thus far, seems to be the ice falling off 18-wheelers and other assorted vehicles. It seems quite dangerous. Sort of like those ice javelins we saw on the news that were falling from that tower in the parking lot in Mississippi. Really scary.

And then there is the exit ramp at I-85 and Clairmont Road. Yesterday it was pretty bad. Ah, and today, it's fine. They put sand out, it seems. Oh and there is the parking lot at work. Yesterday it was a sheet of ice. Security came and picked me up and drove me to the sidewalk. They had a bobcat out when we left, scraping the ice up, little by little. Today, they are still out here with the bobcats. Well, wish me luck. We're about to get out and try the trek to the front door.

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