The high point of my day wasn't during my morning commute, when a terrible traffic accident reduced highway I-85 to a single lane, and I spent a good half hour on one half-mile stretch just south of Shallowford Road.
The day could have been far worse - I could have been one of those unfortunate people involved in the accident - but it was a frustrating way to start the day. I got to the office about an hour late.
The high point of my day wasn't driving out to Athens. Georgia that afternoon, when construction shut Georgia Highwy 316 down to a complete standstill for at least 15 minutes, only to let us creep along at about one car length per minute after that. The incident seemed to have been been caused by an oversized truck trying to haul a large concrete girder over an overpass, and the State Troopers decided to shut down the road beneath until he crossed. I got to my meeting about five minutes late, only because I broke about every speeding law on the books between Collins Bridge Road and Athens to make up for the lost time.
The high point of my day wasn't driving back from Athens, where the already narrow two-lane access road for Peachtree Street off southbound I-85 was reduced to one lane because some other unfortunate person's car broke down in the other lane. No complete stops, but one-car-length-per-minute driving for a mile-long stretch. But again, the day could have been far worse - at least I wasn't the guy waiting there for someone to come along and rescue me.
The high point of my day wasn't coming home to my cats, who were oblivious to my trials and just happy to see me, nor was it imaging the smile on your face as you read this. No, the high point of my day was knowing that all of this was just the perceptions of my own mind, and the commuting and the homecoming and the smiling were only as frustrating or as rewarding as my mind imagined them to be.
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