Good manners drummed into women made dealing effectively with anger a challenge for the youthful me. As I get older I'm much more likely to push back, if I take a few minutes to consider the situation (if possible.) It means BS is called BS more often.

The SUV alert for oil change and tire rotation has been going off for a couple of weeks now; I've figured out which button to push twice to get them to go away during any given trip, but they come back next time I turn on the SUV. I have a note to call this week (since I also have a coupon for the oil and tire rotation that expires in early November.) Hoping to go a bit longer before new tires are needed.

On Friday during evening rush hour I had to traverse six miles of busy boulevard between my house and a friend's house (to feed her cats). I was headed toward town, so I didn't think it would be as busy, but on Friday it seems all such calculations are off. Things were creeping along and I realized I had to take my turn to weave between a crunched sedan at the curb and a bright red pickup with a smashed in front end that sat perpendicular to my lane. Police and tow truck hadn't arrived yet and the truck seemed unwilling to move. And as I slowly took my turn, I herd another collision in the lane travelling south. A quick glance showed a SUV was rear-ended. That was four drivers having probably the worst day of the week and I am always aware that any of us could be next. The glance was in the rear view mirror because rubber-necking always causes accidents.