They know. They heard how much I love road work so they decided to bring it home, RIGHT to my street. Are you as excited as I am? The entrance to my living area is closed for repaving. REPAVING. It’s so awesome how they’re repaving everything everywhere. I’m not complaining though. It makes more sense than the poor patch jobs they were doing. Lazy fuck faces. See, that’s what pisses me off I love. They inconvenience you by patching up little sections at a time. Then they realize the patches aren’t good enough, so they inconvenience you even more by finally repaving. Maybe they should have just repaved initially, therefore saving time, money, and aggravation. Not that I’m aggravated. I love road work like unfit mothers love unplanned children. There is nothing better than having to deal with traffic leaving or entering your own street. NOTHING tops that joy. No wait, there is something better. Driving on a road where one lane is poorly patched and bumpy, and the other lane is stripped down and about 3 inches lower than the first lane. THAT is mega fun, kind of like a roller coaster. I love roller coasters!
Alright readers, I promise I won’t post again about road work for a while. No matter how much road work surrounds me, I will not speak of it. Even if they do road work right outside my front DOOR so that I can’t step foot outside, you won’t hear me complaining. I will suffer love and embrace it in silence. (In my defense, there’s been road work on this street on and off since last year. GO AWAY ALREADY.) But while I’m still writing this post, I will mention road work until it makes you me sick. Road work, road work, road work, road work, road work, road work…
Well, that didn’t take long.