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Fuzzy Rush

I’m late. Really late. Running so far behind that, even if, I was using a catapult to push me airborne… there wouldn’t be enough inertia in the universe to get me past all this traffic. Bumper to bumper. One way ticket to other side of the proverbial U.S. tracks Or Bust. Why is there all this traffic at 4:00 a.m. anyway? Trashy Lingerie Mid-Summer Dream Sale? Where is everyone going? Crazy. Or leaving from? Crazy. Round-trip. It’s not New Year’s. Or is it? It’s not Halloween. I wish. My cat-woman costume is freaking AWESOME! Nope. It’s a bloody Wednesday for fucks sake! Who’s out driving around, at 4:00 a.m., on a bloody Wednesday?! Me. Maybe the exhausted looking taxi driver next to me has the 411? Taxi Driver. And me. Or not… He has enough problems in his own vehicle… Rowdy  patrons and what appear to be a tizzy of drunken excitement. On a Wednesday. At 4:00 a.m. I’m definitely confuzzled here. And these days, it doesn’t take much for confuzzlement to ensue. Maybe I should have inhaled that second cup of joe this morning. Maybe it would have brought me some clarity. Or maybe needed to add a splash of whatever those drunken riders got into my mug. There’s your clarity. Los Angeles. A city built on broken inebriated dreams and annoyed Taxi drivers. On a Wednesday. At 4:00 a.m. Who might also be hittin the sauce.
I should have known today would have started like this though. Yesterday was fairly blaze and uneventful. Time spent with family is super imperative… especially when its forced… because, nature, gave you the flu and said, YOU MUST, spend time with your family today. Suckers. 
Flu has passed. And it’s back on the road. What’s a little morning flight to get the day started?! And I still can’t figure out why others make the security line take so long. It’s not a pop quiz. You don’t need a study guide. Wear flip flops. Hop out of them. Take off your jewelry. Clink. Clink. Put ALL your garbage in the plastic tub provided. One easy drop spot. Seems so simple. Yet so many lack the common sense of it. It’s tough being part of a massive culture dependent upon the human bi-products of our public school system. Summer School was an option people. It’s like I’m out on a wild airport safari -insert quirky Aussie dialect here for effect- quietly watching the mama bear angrily removing her belt for the screening machine… She huffs. And she puffs. She mumbles obscenities -within reason- to the TSA agent, who kindly reminds her he’s just the messenger. And to take off the damn belt. Come on lady, you’ve done this before. Man up. Your pants aren’t going to just slide to the floor in perfect comedic timing… Are they? It’s like people are gluttons for punishment. Hi, I’d like to sign up for a beating please. Oh… Table for one. Bless you, kind sir. Oh, I’ll put on this extra fashion accessory and THIS time, I’ll get through the terminal’s clearing house … Believes aforementioned woman. Who, then, becomes so hostile while having to -once again, at another airport- remove her waist leash. Denied. Duh, lady… When will you learn to live life… simpler? Why are you fighting rules that are -momentarily- still part of our wacky society? Rhetorical. Do not answer. Did you NOT have your Wheaties this morning? No, really. Breakfast is the most vital meal of the day …and are you possibly missing your daily vitamin intake? Maybe a silver multi-vitamin suits your age bracket. Need a V8 juice to go? High in sodium. But hey, better than nothing at all. Too much red meat? You know, it can make you angrier if your body doesn’t fancy those carcinogens. Moo. Mad cow. Moo. 
Welcome to Flight 123BlahBlah… This is your Captain. Please relax… And fasten your seat belts for take off. Eye mask on. Blanket and neck pillow. Check. Yes, Captain Airplane Sexy Pants. Let’s hoist this hunk of metal to the skies… Yes sir. I’m relaxed. 
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