Since I'm a newbie, get to know me...

Hey all! Figured since I'm still pretty new to the blogging world, it'd make sense to let everyone know some random things about me. Found this on a few blogs. Just a little something fun. Enjoy:


A - Age: 21
B - Bed size: A full, for now. Yes... Justin and I sleep on a full size bed, together, with the dogs. (Well lately just me... ). It works, promise. New bed is priority on our list, trust me.
C - Chore you hate: Cleaning the litter box, cleaning the bathroom.
D - Dog's name: Sadies (12 yr old Auss Shep mix) and Hustler (6 month old Germ Shep/Rott mix).
E - Essential start your day item: Ice cold water. My morning just doesn't seem right without it.
F - Favorite color: Pink, of course.
G - Gold or Silver or Platinum: Silver, or platinum. I hate gold, actually.
H - Height: 5'8".
I - Instruments you play: Sadly, none. I never really had the patience to learn. Tried to learn piano when I was younger. Didn't go too well.
J - Job title: Let's not even get into my job...
K - Kid(s): None, yet. But we're definitely going to have a couple in the future. I adore kids.
L - Living arrangements: Apartment, 2 bedrooms; just Justin, myself, the dogs and cat.
M - Mom's name: Elizabeth June (hence my name, April).
N - Nicknames: Ape, Grape, Babe, Baby (of course).
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Got my tonsils out when I was 6. It was a nightmare. Other than that, not since then.
P - Pet Peeve: Slow/bad drivers is one of my biggest, along with stuck-up people.
Q - Quote from a movie: "I just need you to stop being nice to me, unless you're gonna marry me"- from She's Just Not That Into You.
R - Right handed or left handed: Righty.
S - Siblings: Two, both younger. Sister is 20, brother is 12.
T - Time you wake up: 4:30am on work days (eww, right?), and on days off, no specific times.
U- Underwear: What about them? My favorite are from the PINK line at Victoria's Secret. I l-o-v-e them!
V - Vegetable you dislike: Radishes, and cabbage (red). SO gross.
W - Ways you run late: What ways do I not run late? I'm horrible.
X - X-rays you've had: Leg, teeth, back... I think that's it.
Y - Yummy food you make: I like to think it's all delicious ;)
Z - Zoo favorite: Polar Bears! They are the cutest things ever!

Now it's crunch time. I've got two important final papers that BOTH have to be finished in less than two weeks. And they're completely opposite of each other. Even the style. One's MLA and one's APA. One's for English, one's for Business. Ugh. Let's hope my brain doesn't give way like an avalanche. I already feel it happening. Stress + already-crazy-busy-life = a disaster!

Oh, and to top it all off, my math final is in less than two weeks as well. So, gotta squeeze some study and tutor time in there. Eeek. Brains should have some sort of switch. We should be able to store certain information in certain parts, and switch back and forth, only remembering what we NEED to at that time.

I'm gonna need a vacation after this semester! Is there a such things as a free vacation? You know, the kind you don't have to pay for? That's the only kind I'll be able to take. A girl can dream, right.

My need for speed.

I've come to the realization that I get annoyed WAY too easily. Over nothing, usually. The silliest, most pointless thing will cause me to roll my eyes and think mean thoughts in my head (or sometimes say them aloud). Or if I'm driving, yelling out loud to drivers that can't even hear me seems to be an instant reaction (I've got a little road rage). I know, I'm awful. And having ZERO patience helps my cause none.

Take today for instance. As I'm driving home from work, I get behind this guy in an old Ford Taurus. Looking at him from behind, into his mirror, I can tell he's young. I was only about a quarter mile from my apartment complex, so I was forced to stay in the left lane to make the turn up ahead. Trust me, there have been a couple times I've been in the middle lane, almost commiting suicide trying to get over last second to turn just so I wasn't stuck behind some old man or soccer mom going WAY under the speed limit in the left lane. Anyways, being so close to home, no way was I chancing it.

Home was so close. The turn lane was just up ahead. I wanted so badly to gun it, to make it there faster. But nope. Instead for some unknown reason, I was stuck behind old man wannabe. I'd had enough. I got on his ass and yelled all kinds of things at him (but of course he couldn't see me). My fist automatically went for the horn. Right as I was about to, what do you know. The turn lane. Finally I'd made it. And me being me, I flipped him off even though there's no way he'd ever know it.

Tell me I'm not pathetic? I mean, that situation wasn't even a minute long, and I lost my cool. Normally I'd just get over and pass the idiot. But I couldn't. Hence my overreaction.

There's almost nothing worse than being behind someone going under the speedlimit. Actually, in my case, the speedlimit is too slow also. No, I don't think I'm some "badass" for going fast. One day it will bite me in the ass, I know. But I HATEhatehate having to go slow. Especially on the freeway. Me, I hang out in the fast lane, at all times. I've caught myself going almost 100 mph (ooops), not even knowing it. Going slow honestly just doesn't feel right. Yes, I'm the asshole you yell at everyday because I don't use my turn signal when switching lanes. Or maybe I weave in and out of traffic if I'm ultra impatient that day. I'M SORRY. Seriously. The need for speed just comes natural.

Frustration builds even more when I'm in the fast lane and some bonehead is going the speedlimit. In the fast lane. THE SPEED LIMIT. They're following the law. Congratulations to them. However, it is called the fast lane for a reason, people. Get the hell over. Now. Hurry, go!

I want one of these on my windshield. (It would be perfect. That way I wouldnt have to stare at them in their mirror and point to the right, yelling "Get the f**k over!"). People would be caught off gaurd, right?:

Do any of you feel the same way? Or better yet, anybody have road rage as bad as I do? Please tell me I'm not the only one! Haha.

One title won't work for this one.

I'm aware that I haven't blogged in almost a week. My life can be beyond unpredictable, busy and pretty crazy. Here's a recap of my eventful weekend, though:

Friday: After work, I came home to find that Hustler had once again taken it upon himself to get into whatever his little heart desired. Luckily, nothing important. After picking up after my damn puppy, I proceeded to clean my house. My ENTIRE house. Granted, it's not like it's huge or anything. But refer to my post about cleaning and you'll understand what I mean. The only reason I played domestic goddess was to make Justin happy. (Don't get me wrong. I always keep it clean. However this was SUPER cleaning). I could barely contain my excitement the whole day in anticipation of seeing him. I was supposed to be picking him up at about 5:30pm from work. Once I got his phone call, I left the house, smiling a big cheesy smile while driving. Singing my heart out. Didn't care who saw me. When I parked and was waiting for him to come to the car, I got butterflies. Ah, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Whatever. I literally strangled the poor guy when I ran to give him the biggest hug of his life along with a million "hello-I-missed-you-SO-much" kisses. We then went and had a nice dinner, ran a couple errands, came home and spent some quality, MUCH needed alone time together. ;) Three weeks apart will drive one crazy.

Saturday: Unfortunately, I had to get up early for work. Luckily it was a short day and I was home before he even woke up. You bet I hopped right back into bed with him. Shoe shopping for Justin was the first event. First let me explain what this means. He can't just go into a store, pick out some shoes, get his size and leave. Oh, nope. He's ultra picky for one. For two, his feet are weird. He's in between sizes or whatever so shoes don't ever fit him right. Which makes shopping for shoes a chore. We looked at 5 different stores. Nothing. We had to stop that for the day though. Off to his brother's house for swimming and a nice family BBQ. His mom, who lives about an hour away, was also visiting with Justin's sisters and a couple of their friends. Bowling was after this. SO much fun, even though I definitely suck. Justin's mom, sisters and friends ended up sleeping at our house. Oh, goody. (If only you knew. They're a little crazy).

Sunday: Being the wonderful cook I am, I whipped up some delicious french toast for everyone. Then came errands... all day. Went to his brothers for a bit. Then ate at Mimi's Cafe for dinner. I ordered a beer. And if you've ever been to Mimi's... yeah, well, you can imagine how I felt drinking a beer there. Out of place, maybe? It's just so cute and homey in there. My beer was good regardless. Then home for some much needed sleep.

Monday: (My favorite day of the long weekend). It was so nice to not have to get up early for work, or worry about going to class. Instead we had a day to relax and remember all the fallen soldiers and men and women who fight for us everyday =). Justin and I slept in together. This is a rare happening. More shoe shopping. He actually found some, though! Thank goodness. And we came across this watch store and went in to look, with no intention of actually buying. BUT... I saw this Juicy Couture watch:

and I REALLY likedloved it. Oh well, dream on, I thought. But after seeing how much I loved it... Justin bought it for me! This gorgeous watch is now all mine. (Yes, I'm excited. You see, I've never really been the type to receive or worry about designer things. Until now I guess?). All smiles, we went to the grocery store, went home, and I made him his favorite dinner. Meatloaf and homemade mashed potatoes. Yum, but not the healthiest. As long as it made him happy =).

We spent one last night together and he had to leave early this morning. Of course I'm upset. Saying goodbye whenever he leaves breaks my little heart. It's the worst feeling. It always takes me a a couple days to come completely out of my funk.

Didn't "diet" all weekend (oops). Didn't hit the gym once. But did any of that enter my mind? Nope. I was much too happy sitting on cloud nine. But now it's back to reality. It's just me and the dogs/cat again. At least I've got my little furry babies to keep my company.

Him and the dog.

First of all, Justin just called. Which is not a big deal, because he calls a million times a day, other than the fact that what he told me created the biggest cheesy smile on my face. He's currently in Washington, and he dropped a load this morning. Luckily, his driver manager gave him another load right away... and he's coming back home! (Side note- he was supposed to be home this past weekend, but they ignored his request and sent him to Washington, again. Grrr). Truck drivers are allowed 3 days home for every two weeks they're driving. Funny, though, because by the time Justin gets back Friday night, it will have been almost three weeks since his original departure. Excited doesn't even begin to explain how I feel! Plus, he'll be home through Monday night... and I have no class OR work on Monday. A full day of alone time- PERFECT.

And that means our furry kids, especially the dogs, will lose their much loved spot on the bed. They've been camping out on his side. For two reasons, I assume. They sense I'm upset and lonely, and they wanted to be up there in the first place but Justin was in their way. Hustler mainly. He likes to give me kiss attacks before I fall asleep, in the middle of the night, and when I wake up. He's a doll. Yet there's just something about a dog kiss. I adore my puppy, but GROSS. However, Justin enjoys it. They make out all the time. See? See the tongue action? Hustler even gets close, holds Justin's head, and wraps his leg. Dang, dog knows what he's doing. Sadies, the grumpy-old-lady, NEVER gives kisses. Ever. She's a bit weird. Too good for it I guess.

Speaking of my little dude (not so little, but he is only 6 months), I've been taking him to the dog park almost everyday for the past couple weeks. It's to the point that when I take him outside, but only to do his business, he'll walk by my car and just stare at it, as if to say "park, please, Mom?". I disappoint him when I say no. When we are actually going, though, he knows. As soon as he hears the clicking noise of me unlocking the doors... he runs to the back door and sits until I open it. SO cute. But sometimes he's rather sit shotgun. Climbing in between the seats to get there is his preferred method, even if I'm driving. There have been times I've been blinded by his butt as he's moving from back to front.

The dog park I go to is pretty nice, and it's huge. They have two separate parks-one for big dogs, one for little dogs. Definitely his favorite place. He's made so many friends =). Sadly, Sadies doesn't like other dogs much, so I can't take her along. (Who am I kidding. She probably enjoys her alone time). Old age and such have gotten the best of her. We call her Grandma sometimes. After all, she is 12. In people years, that's... old.

Anyways, excitement has taken over. Only 2.5 more days until I can jump into Justin's arms and squeeze the living daylights out of him, and kiss him until he can't breathe. Something to look forward to.

Gotta get my butt in gear!

For about two months straight, I was going to the gym regularly. I was eating better, eating less, and feeling great. I'd lost about 15 lbs! Well... for some reason, I sorta feel off the wagon. Sort of. Going to gym became less often. My eating habits weren't as good, and I only half-assed my efforts. Luckily, I've only gained back a couple pounds. That's it. But still. And now, sitting here (well, the past few days it's been getting to me) I feel so guilty!

Guilt... ugh. When it's self-inflicted guilt, it's worse. Especially when it's something I have full control over. So I sit here right now, making a pledge to myself. I pledge to start going to the gym again, almost everyday. I pledge to fix my once good eating habits, yet again. I can and WILL go this. Justin tries to be completely supportive, but He's seen me go for it, then stop, then go for it, then stop. So I don't blame him. Yet this time, I mean it!!

So here goes, starting today. I did good with breakfast (cut up grapefruit and a whole wheat english muffin). And now, with my first class cancelled for the day (woo-hoo!), I've got plenty of time to make it to the gym before my second class.

Off to the gym I go! I'm pumped and ready to finally, seriously, once-and-for-all, make a CHANGE! I shall track my progress.

Grandpa, what now?

Yesterday night, I drove to Laguna Hills, which is about 40 minutes from my house. My intentions? To visit my dear Grandmother, who was placed in a 24 hour rehabilitation/"sick seniors" home. The past couple years her health has gone downhill completely, most of it being her fault. She refused to listen to doctors. Ignored requests from my Grandpa over the course of the last couple years to get help, to get better, to fight the sickness and the weakening of her legs. It WAS totally possible, if she tried. She didn't. My Grandma, stubborn and spoiled by my Grandpa for 60 years, wasn't having it. They've been happily married for something like 60 years, and I admire their love SO much. Yet one problem- my Grandma has never had to work. Ever. Not once. So naturally she enjoyed and was accustomed to being taken care of by him. My Grandpa even hired 24/7 live-in help, but it became too expensive. So, this is where last night comes in.

My aunt calls me up on Wednesday, which happened to be the day after my Grandma's birthday. Grandma's been put in a 24/7 care center for seniors, she tells me. Grandpa can't do it on his own, she tells me. My heart dropped. I knew this was the last thing Grandpa wanted to have to do. But it had to be done. No doubt about it.

So I go last night and was taken aback at the sight of my ill, weak Grandma. It took all I had to not show that I was upset. Upset that is has gotten this bad. And even more upset that she's putting my Grandpa through all of this due to the simple fact that she didn't even try to reverse the problems. Looking at my stressed, yet STRONG, wonderful Grandpa with his amazing soul, I felt proud of him for being so brave and taking a step in the right direction, finally admitting he couldn't do it on his own anymore. Regardless of how I felt standing there, I reminded myself I was there to enjoy the evening with my Grandparent and Aunt and Uncle, who had brought In 'n Out for everyone. Yum.

I remember hearing my Grandma say "I want to go home", "take me home" at least a hundred times to my poor Grandpa. And the sad thing? He's considering it. He's considering hiring 24/7 live-in help, AGAIN. It costs an arm and a leg and isn't covered by their insurance. Making sure she's happy is still his first priority, even if it means going broke in the process.

Moving closer to my Grandparents was the best thing I ever did. They mean so much to me, and without them, I wouldn't be where I am today. And that's 100% true. They've helped me more than I could have ever asked for, and I appreciate them and their love and support. I'm fortunate enough to have Grandparents like them, especially my Grandpa. He's paying my way through school. He helped me get a car. The list goes on and on. He's one big heart and an amazing soul. And I can't help but wonder what happens from here. Yes, it's life. People get old. Family passes away and life goes on. But I'm not ready for any of that. Especially my beloved Grandparents...

Blessing in disguise & oh how I miss him...

Thursday nights at 6:30pm I have my Intro to Business class at the community college I'm currently attending. We had a two-page paper (single spaced, 11 font (freaking tiny- he's crazy!), I might add!) that was due tonight. Granted, I've had a whole week to do it. The subject was a little complicated for me, though. There were 5 separate questions to be answered, all of which had to do with the recent events involving Chrysler, the United Auto Workers Union, labor relations, the effect of this, the result of that... whatever. Researching this topic made it even MORE confusing, let me tell you. I found all kinds of mixed, jumbled stories. I couldn't quite piece together what it all meant. (Yes, I have a point). So, seven days go by... and me being the procrastinator that I truly am, put it off each and every day. Come tonight, I'm ready to leave for class- with no paper in hand. Oops. Surprise Surprise.

Walking up to classroom, I see people from class just sitting around on benches, waiting. This is nothing new, as the professor is often a little late. There were about 10 of us, all airheads it turns out. No one bothered to get up and walk through the double doors to his classroom door. Someone finally did, and he came back out and said "There's a note on the door. Class is cancelled". WHAT?! A mini celebration erupted in my head. My lucky day! Now I've got even more days to (NOT) do the assignment. Lovely. (Knowing my luck, he'll email us tomorrow asking for our assignments by email. Wouldn't that be wonderful). Temporarily, though, the joy is still there. It made my night.

On another note, I really, tremendously miss Justin. A little over a month ago (feels like so much longer) he started truck driving again. Money got tight recently, and he makes much more driving. Justin has his Class A license, even though for the past 2 years he hasn't driven a semi. But with money being sparse and the economy sucking ass, he decided to give trucking another go. He's doing over-the-road, which means he travels from state to state. Meaning:

He never knows when he'll be home. He never knows the next place he's going until they let him know. He has to shower in strange places, and do all his business in bathrooms that aren't his. Sleeping isn't the greatest, either. He sleeps in a bed in his truck, which looks like this:

I feel horrible. And besides just feeling bad for him, I'm miserable myself!! I've yet to adjust, and he's been doing this for almost two months. I sleep alone almost every night, with only my dogs keeping me company. Yes, the extra money is nice. But not really. I'd give anything to just have him back home with me, the way it should be... Missing him is SO hard. We talk about a million times a day between phone calls/texting, which does help. But crap.

I don't know how other women, such as military wives, do it. I now have tons of respect for each and every one of them now that I'm somewhat experiencing what they go through... Some for months at a time.

Forget all that. I want my baby back. Home. With me, where he should be. =(

Procrastination, the devil on my shoulder

There's one thing I've always been great at: procrastinating, everything and anything that isn't "life or death". Sadly, I've gotten very good at being a procrastinator when it comes to certain things. Take, for instance, writing essays for my English class. Hypothetically, say I'm assigned an essay on a Monday, with the rough draft due on a Wednesday (which happens all the time). It involves research, long, organized thought dumps, and must be at least 5 paragraphs. Do I start it Monday after class, like most would assume? Nope. How about Tuesday, anytime? Not at all, but if I do, not until the evening. So when does that leave me? Oh, only about a few hours before class Wednesday. Oddly enough, this is how my best writing comes out. My last three essays (one of which was an in-class essay which we were allowed to bring notes on the material, and I arrived to class with nothing, "accidentally") have been awesome! Getting each one back, I found a big fat "A" with a happy face from the professor, all while giving myself a pat on the back.

But my procrastination doesn't always work to my advantage. Not often at all, really. I'm almost ashamed to be saying this. Things like "oh, I'll do it later", or "it can wait until tomorow" have been known to come out of my mouth quite often. The other day, I took my puppy to the dog park. Some other bully dog knocked him into a muddy puddle. I managed to get most of his fur clean, but he of course still needed a bath. This was a few days ago. Has Hustler had a bath? Not yet. So now I've got a puppy that looks clean but is really covered in dog slobber, dust, and whatever else, sleeping on my bed... UGH. But, my fault.

Just little things like that that happen constantly. Often times it makes me feel horrible, but I have no one to blame but my own self. "I'll mail the _ bill off tomorow". A week later. Oops. "Don't worry babe, my math homework isn't due for three weeks". Due date, not finished. Oops. "Hallmark closes in an hour. I'll just go tomorow". Three days later. Now it's a belated card I'm buying. Oops. Justin always tells me "Babe, you could have just done it when you knew about it and it would have been done. Ugh.". DUH. Commen sense. But when you're a procrastinator, it takes over and pushes the commen sense into a tiny spot in the back corner of the brain. Again, oops.

Can't I just hire a maid?

Ahh, house cleaning day. If the mood strikes, I'll clean my whole house and enjoy it. Any other time, not so much. (The mood usually doesn't strike). Don't get me wrong; I LOVE a clean house. I just don't like being the one that has to do it. Cleaning = not my idea of woo-hoo fun time. Matter or fact, I should have already started. Instead I'm blogging of course. I'll start after I write. Sounds good to me.

When I was younger and still lived at home, we had chores. I'm sure many of you did as well. Let me just tell you, though... your chores were nowhere as brutal as mine. I'm talking brutal, man. Picture this: me, ten years old. (Yeah, I was a cutie...). Every Friday was slavechore day. A day I DREADED. Actually, I purposely came home late from school a couple of times just so maybe I could get out of doing them. Never worked. So here I am, ten years old. Vacuuming the whole house. Dusting the entire house. Cleaning my/my sister's bathroom. Picking up the gross dog poop outside. You name it, I helped clean it. (What's not fair now, is that my little brother is eleven... and he's never had to any chores! I always give him the "when I was your age..." story. He just laughs and says "haha". He feels no sympathy).

And that grueling ritual went on until I was about seventeen. And that's only because I packed up my shit and said "peace". But that's another story. So naturally this would be the reason why to this day, house cleaning just isn't my favorite thing to do. I was talking to Justin this morning on the phone...

Him: So, you're gonna clean the house today, huh? So the next time I come home, it'll look nice for me? (He says it in a slightly cute, motivating way).

Me: I sure am! I'm going to clean the entire house. Gonna get started in a few minutes. Well, actually, going to clean for a few hours. So, whatever I can get done. Gotta shower and get ready for tonight.

Him: Oh okay, as long as you get some of it done. It really needs it, especially the carpet because Sadies' has been shedding a lot.

Me: Oh I know, I agree. (long pause). Wait, babe, I have a question...

Him: Yeah?

Me: Why can't we just hire a maid? Then I wouldn't have to clean. That's always been a dream of mine...

Him: (laughing). Because maids cost money. Why would I hire a maid when we have you to do it for free?

Now, this is true. But the idea of having someone else do my dirty work sounded GREAT. Oh well, worth a try. I have to admit, I was kinda bummed. Thought maybe he'd consider it a little bit. ... Funny thing, too. I've got all the cleaning supplies known to man. It's some sort of wierd obsession that makes no sense, since I despise cleaning and all. Walking into a store and seeing a sale on cleaning supplies makes me excited. Oh, and If I've got a coupon... watch out! Go figure. Take a look:

This is in my hall closet. You can't tell, but the shelf goes FAR back, and it's FULL of cleaning stuff. Also if you can't tell, almost every scent of Glade and Febreeze, too. And that's nothing; I've got cleaners stashed under my kitchen and bathroom sinks as well. Call me crazy...

Okay, I'm sure you're wondering if I'm actually going to get up and at 'em and clean the house. After thinking about it long and hard... yeah, I am. Dammit. Better crank the music. The only way to make it better is to sing and dance while doing it.

Dear Mother Nature,

It is not yet summer. Nope, still over a month to go. Can you please explain something to me? Why, oh why, is it already so hot? Currently it is 90 degrees- ridiculous! Correct me if I'm wrong, but Spring is supposed to be about pretty flowers, the start of baseball season, and the Easter bunny... right? There isn't a word about HEAT! That ugly word is saved for summer time in most places. Not here, in the Inland Empire of Southern California. Granted, I live in a place where the hott weather seems to rush to, not wasting any time to span it's horrible sweat-inducing rays of sun upon us innocent bystanders. If I had my choice, I'd move. (Well maybe not...).

The hott weather and I don't agree at all. Ever since I could remember, I've not dealt with heat well. It could be 95 with low humidity. Everyone else says "crap it's hott!" and moves on with their joyous day. Except me. I'm the one crying on the inside. I become miserable and uncomfortable, especially being outdoors for too long. I'm usually the only one starting to sweat when the weather is decent enough for others not to. And that's fair how? My big-whiny-baby side comes out from time to time. I HATE THE SUMMER, and if this is a sign of what's to come... then I'm going to be spending many a days indoors. Fun.

I was almost road kill.

Naturally, I'm a pretty good driver. Not bragging, just being honest. Maybe I go way over the speedlimit. And hey, so what if I don't always use my turn signal when switching lanes. Yeah, I'm a badass. It makes me feel powerful, me and my little Toyota Yaris. But there is one thing that stil kinda scares me and makes my stomach turn just a little each time it happens. What's that, you ask? It's when I have to drive past a semi truck and I'm in the slow lane and they're not. Which, in my head, is always wierd because that's their territory, the let's-go-55mph-because-we-have-to lane. I just wanna scream out my window "Get back where you belong and stop making me pass you!".

Well anyways, 4:30am I'm driving to work, going 85mph because I'm already late as it is (I wasn't at home; spent the night with Justin in his truck (a semi truck people, with a sleeper) seeing as how he had to leave early this morning). Paying only just enough attention to the road, and nothing else (meaning everyone else around me), I managed to make it almost to work, and what would happen to me? My worst fear. Realizing I was almost to my exit, I hurried up and switched lanes to the far right. And go figure, there happened to be a semi in the lane next to me, not in his own damn lane, because he's in denial that he's so much slower than the rest of us, which automatically annoyed me to begin with. Minding my own business, almost to the exit, I happened to quickly turn my head to the left, because I had this sensation that I was boxed in all of a sudden. Funny thing was, I WAS boxed in! This idiot was totally drifting into my lane, probably about two inches from my poor car. And he didn't do what most do. You know, realize that, "oh shit, I'm gonna hit her!". No, what does he do instead? Gets closer, obviously not realizing he is pushing my off the side of the road! Freaking out, I sped up and went right at the same time, making it safely to the shoulder. It was then he finally realized what a douche he was. Too late then. He drove on, I got back on the road, got off the exit and went to work, my heart still pounding a mile a minute.