They closed down the east bound lanes of I-80 again.  Construction had already closed one lane and the storm last night brought down trees which closed the other lane.  A state trooper is blocking the on ramp and directing everyone past my house to the next ramp.  This is driving me crazy.  The road twists through the hills of western Pennsylvania, and all the big trucks are creeping along at a very sedate pace.  This is going to make me very late for my appointment with new director of human resources.  I have been trying to get this appointment for seven weeks to discuss my return to work.  My doctor won’t approve my returning so soon, but I am getting stir-crazy sitting and watching soaps all day.  I am sure that part time work, sitting at a desk will not slow down my recovery.  But first I have to get out of this traffic.  There, up ahead, is a dirt road that none of these trucks will try.  Its a longer road but I should be able to get my speed up high enough to make up some time and get to my meeting on time.  I see a few other cars have the same idea.  Thank goodness they are all keeping up their speed.  I have arrived.  I grap my purse, lock my doors and limp my way into the builing.  The receptionist offers me a chair and and a drink.  The director is stuck in traffic on I-80.

Keywords: drink – purse