This picture was taken at 7:10 a.m. Eastern Standard Time on a Wednesday morning.  I am roughly 3.5 miles away from my final destination, and it will take me 30 minutes to traverse a stretch of road that would ordinarily take just under four, if traveling at the legal speed limit of 55 mph.  It is not the fact that this was exceptionally bad that serves as the impetus of this post, it’s the fact that this is absolutely ordinary that it does.

Actually, that’s not entirely true, because I’ve seen endured it worse before, many, many times.  These electronic signs scattered insufficiently throughout the outskirts of the Metro Atlanta area are harbingers of dread and symbols of ineptitude.  15-17 actually isn’t bad, as it’s usually 24-26 most of the time, and if there’s absolutely any precipitation, it’s 38-40; the general rule is to add 10-12 minutes to that, which is a more accurate estimation.  And if there’s an accident, it’s guaranteed to occur right under the sign, so that there’s absolutely zero chance of you knowing there’s an accident in advance and detour, and that you’ll see the sign just as you’re approaching the calamity.

Just once, during a particularly bad morning, I’d like to simply see it say “YOU’RE FUCKED.”

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