My Email to Dan on a rainy Friday morning

Hi Honey, I am back home. Dismal walk to the train. Grab a kleenex for this very sad tale.

It was pouring buckets of rain, and the wind was blowing. I was crossing Addison at the light at whatever side street that is (Byron?). As usual, I pressed the button and waited for the walk signal. There was a car waiting to turn left and head east on Addison, and I could tell that he was in a hurry because he was sticking way out. I got the walk sign and started to cross, and he came out like he wanted to go first, but I can be stubborn so I kept walking. He kept coming fast, and missed me by about 2 inches. He came behind me, I'm surprised that he didn't get the back of my shoe with his rear tires, he came that close. He actually swerved to come closer to me to scare me, and he did scare me. Scared the ___ out of me. There was a van stopped there at the light heading west, and I could see the driver shake his head like he couldn't believe what he saw. I was so upset that I started crying (big baby). I swear, things like this make me lose faith in the whole human race.

I kept walking (tearfully) down Addison, and I was getting absolutely soaked because the wind was blowing the rain right at me. You are so lucky you had your rain pants and poncho on for your walk, my legs and feet were as wet as if I had been wading in a river up to my thighs. I turned on Kilbourn, and I knew that I didn't want to sit on the train all soaked (and weepy), and then face that 20-minute walk to the office on the other end. So I turned around and came back home, thoroughly wetting the back of me in the process.

I thought I would change clothes, grab the car and drive to the station and catch the next train, but I just could not stand the thought of going back out there into a world where very mean people try to run very nice people down, just so they can go first, or just for the fun of it. Plus, I have a headache, which I think is sinus related because I am all stuffed up. So I called in.

And that's my sad story.