Parts of 44 are flooding, apparently, and as the volume of traffic grows while the road narrows so does the gridlock. I was advised to avoid that path as I made my way to work today, instead opting for 141 down to Gravois only to find it, too, had been stricken with a contiguous mass of steel and fiberglass that seemed to stretch on for eternity. As the mass slowly went about its march of futility I was troubled about what may be laying in wait for me at the end. To my surprise, and disappointment as well, it was nothing. Sections to the sides had been flooded, so the dangers were serious indeed, but there was nothing to suggest a blocking of traffic flow on what I was currently traveling. After reaching a certain point the congestion loosened and things resumed at normal speed.
I don't know if this desire is commonly held or just another indicator that my mind is in some way broken, but after temporarily being held prisoner by our lines of transportation I have a great desire to see some sort of grim display before me which will explain the situation endured. I am not asking for body parts, wrenched from their owners, laying in the streets, but just some shred that some mishap had taken place. It could even be comical, like a trailer full of live chickens busting open and now the regular commute is held in wait by birds, indeed, attempting to cross the road.
When there is nothing to be found at the end of such an inconvenience it is frustrating to me. It is not unlike entering a slow-moving line at an amusement park, as large chunks of your life are spend idly, anticipating what wonders you will find, only to find once you reach the end you have passed through the exit.
In short, traffic is stupid, good night.
-K.
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