$200. That’s how much I pay in tolls in an average month. $200. That’s how much I would pay per hour for a therapist with my insurance. We’ll come back to these figures later.
There was a time in my life when driving made me extremely angry. Whether it was the slow-pokes in the left lane or the stop-signs-don’t-apply-to-me people, everything everyone did made me throw up my hands and scream. Drivers shouldn’t do that unless you have Lane Keep Assist or a Tesla. My driving motto at the time was I hate you and I hate the way you drive. It got to the point where I didn’t want to drive at all. I tried listening to classical music. I tried to make excuses for other drivers. None of it worked.
Anger became the norm, and I just lived with it.
Then, the other day, I realized that my anger and hatred of other drivers had dulled considerably. Not gone away, mind you, just dulled. Suddenly I couldn’t remember the last time I got really angry in traffic. I started to rack my brain to figure out what had changed. How long ago was my last rage-fueled steering wheel slapping incident?
The answer? Two and a half years ago, right before we moved into the new house. You see, the new house changed my route to work. Instead of driving down surface streets, I now take 45 and MoPac (which is part toll as well). Once I leave my neighborhood, I don’t hit another stoplight until Gateway Plaza on the other side of the city from where I live.
All of this means there is relatively low traffic on a majority of my route. Sure, there are still people who want to go 55 in the fast lane of a 75 zone, but there are plenty of empty lanes on the tollways and it’s easy to get around them.
I didn’t realize how great I had it until last week when I had to go out of my way to gas up my car because Austinites thought the world was coming to an end. The detour required me to drive surface streets back to my house and deal with slow drivers, possibly drunk drivers, buses, construction, last-minute lane changers, stop lights, confusing four-way stops, bicyclists who just don’t give a damn, and so on and so on.
All of the anger came back. All of it.
Over the last couple of years, the topic of reducing our reliance on toll roads has come up as a way to save some money. After last week’s experience, I think it’s pretty clear it’s a wash.
Either I spend $200 a month on tolls, or I spend $200 an hour on therapy.
It’s a no-brainer.
12 chapters in, and I’m scrapping the whole thing. Starting over. Blank page. Blinking cursor. New bottle of wine. And so forth.