“Remoted” – Workday 109 / Day 156 (Wednesday)

The weather got wacky this afternoon. There were some mood swings happening. Giant rain drops loudly splatted on the air conditioner unit and the driveway pavement outside the office windows. From the desk, I could see bright blue sky. The rain cloud seemed to be parked over my street. It cleared briefly, then an hour later, a thunderstorm rolled in. Once the rumbling cleared, the sky co-starred dark clouds and bright sunshine.

Stormy and sunny
mood swing weather.

During the first rain event, while marveling at the combination of bright and stormy, I went to the far side of the house in search of dramatic clouds. The rain pummeled the deck and the Prime delivery package laying there. There were no deliveries scheduled for me, and I hadn't yet ordered the item delivering tomorrow.

The name on the soggy paper label affixed to the plastic padded envelope was luckily still legible, and it was that of a neighbor I actually know, which was helpful. I put the dripping thing in the enclosed porch while engaging in a mini rant about the driver. I was already peeved by the UPS driver who parked the big brown truck in my driveway this morning to deliver a package to a house across the street. A house, which, by the way, had its own, much larger empty driveway. Where the driveway meets the road is becoming more chewed up.

Every day, UPS, FedEx, and untold numbers of passenger vehicles pull into my driveway shared with Neighbor Guy to turn around, and in the case of the UPS big brown trucks, to park while they deliver to neighboring homes. Lately, this really burns me up. Now I understand the houses I've seen with the “No Turning in Driveway” signs. Those homeowners clearly had enough. The driveway traffic annoys me even more than the mailman walking across my lawn to the neighbor’s house. I thought the new fence would stop that, but he freely strides across the grass to exit via the other gate in the fence.

While most people fantasize about vacations or their next car, lately I fantasize about installing a gate at the end of the driveway. A concrete barrier or a boulder might also do the trick. Or those metal spikes that destroy tires while backing out. Then I feel guilty for being the “get off my lawn” grump. Feeling petty and spiteful aren’t fun, but neither is feeling that my property, into which most of my money goes, is being abused.

With the more generous state of mind that I vaguely recall once possessing, these things didn’t bother me. Or at least not as much. But lately, the driveway, the lawn, and a thousand other things are getting deep under my skin and on my nerves. The weather isn't the only thing moody and dark. The dogs, while reasonably good listeners, aren’t especially helpful with their feedback.