Chapter 9: Through Traffic“Why won’t you go faster?!” I wave vainly at the vehicle in front of me, contemplating nudging my front bumper into its back to offer it a helpful push. Traffic is the worst, it delays me from getting back home and to my own bed.
Maybe got an hour of sleep the night before. I can’t remember when I fell asleep. Can’t forget how I was woken up, to the loud blaring of my enthusiastic mother, calling everyone to the table for more family time and food.
All I want is sleep and some ibuprofen and a bottle of antacids. As much as I love my parents, I wanted out of there as fast as possible to complete the task of not making me feel like I was run over by a Zamboni. Good luck expecting a coffee to correct any of these three problems. Somehow my parents can drink their b
