My commute went form one hour to ten minutes, and I'm still just as rushed in the morning.

Parkinson's Law states that work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion. I've noticed this for sure in the mornings when Jake and I get ready for work/school.

A month and a half ago my commute went from an hour plus to ten minutes. Meaning, I'd have an extra hour in the morning to get ready.

I'm just as rushed as I was before. Actually, not quite. I'm slightly more relaxed, but the difference is very slight. It doesn't feel like I have an extra hour.

Why? Because each task I do to get Jake ready stretches out until the hour is filled up.* This isn't intentional. It just happens.

Parkinson's Law applies everywhere, most interestingly at work. For example, these last two days at work I've had almost nothing to do. When I did get work it took me all day to do it.

I'm much more productive when I have lots to do and very little time to do it. I speed through my work and the days go by much, much faster.

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* When you have a kid, there is no such thing as rushing. The more you try to rush, the slower you get. This is called "Kid Time". Estimate how long it would normally take you to do something, triple it, and that's Kid Time.

An Epic Journey.

Lately I've been having some epic journeys - "containing details of heroic deeds and events significant to a culture or nation" - on the commute home after work.

I leave around 4:30pm, just as it's getting dark, and I arrive at home at what feels like midnight. Everything is dark. It's been pouring rain so I've been staring out of a water-streaked windshield, for hours, lines of red brake lights stretching off into the infinite distance.

I'm drained. Sometimes my leg hurts from pressing the gas and break over and over. My eyes are sore. I ache. I step in the house and am faced with an exhausting task of making dinner, cleaning, putting Jake to bed, cleaning some more.

On Fridays I need alcohol to wind down from a week of this.

Well the latest news is that my company is moving to Maple Ridge! A mere 15 minutes from my house, a few minutes from Jake's daycare! This is insanely good news, if it happens. (The problem is things change so much you never know if it will really happen until you're moving your furniture into the new office.)

I estimate it will save Jake almost 2 hours in daycare. That's a huge difference. It will save me a ton of driving and just in time for the messy winter season. (We're set to move in early December.)

This is a huge stroke of luck as Maple Ridge generally does not have any office jobs or businesses. I should know - I spent a year looking for a job in MR to no avail. Hard to believe out of all the places in the Lower mainland, the place where I work is moving 15 minutes from my house.

I'm flabbergasted. I only have a month left of epic journeys.

In the car on the way home.

Yesterday afternoon, while driving home, I started thinking about driving. The light had begun to darken and rain started to splatter the windshield. There I was, travelling 100 kilometers an hour - a speed unheard and incomprehensible the vast majority of humans who have ever lived.

Sensors inside the car sensed it was dark and provided me with blueish light so I could lightly see the interior controls. The headlights had switched themselves on, creating a pool of bright yellow light making everything bright and clear. Mechanical wipers swished water out of my way, allowing me to see unobstructed.

The car blew warm, de-humidified air into the cabin, making me feel comfortable, despite the unfriendly elements of wind, rain and cold outside the car. I adjusted the fan so that it blew warm air onto my feet, which were a little cold.

I listened to a audiobook read by a professional narrator, created in a studio thousands of miles away. When I tired of this, I tuned the sound system to music - a reggae-type music from a CD I had borrowed from a massive catalogue of CDs held in our library.

My left show was off, and I rubbed my foot, massageingly, at red lights. I thought, "I'm in a bubble of comfort, surrounded by tons of steel and metal, hurtling me efficiently toward a destination."

Imagine what historical humans would have thought

I'm not rich. Not noble or Kingly or important in any major sense. I'm just a regular human. Look at this luxury I have. I was inside a tiny and comfortably enclosed, speeding home.

I can see how road rage happens. Someone crashes into you, hurts you, disturbs your peace. Hell yeah, you could easily become aggressive or offended. The car wraps around you and shields you from personal contact. Other vehicles are similar machines, driven by nameless, faceless people.

Listening to traffic reports on the radio is totally useless.

When I first started commuting I listened avidly to the traffic reports on the radio. Now I don't bother.

They don't help. First, they're often wrong and way out dated. They will still report an accident that happened hours ago. (They often beg people for updates. "If you're in the area let us know what's going on!" I want to yell, "Where's your chopper? You tell me!"

Second, there are only a few alternate routes and they're so slow that it isn't any faster taking them - even if the radio reports an accident on your route.

Third, often they say, "It's super slow, there's an accident on this road." When you get there, it isn't slow at all. In other words, the radio exaggerates the problem. I guess this is related to point #1 - they're wrong.

Finally, 95% of the information is useless. They say stuff like, "Mary Hill bypass is busy and slow going." Okay... So what? It's like that all the time. That doesn't tell me anything new.

I've concluded that traffic reports are simply for the illusion of control. Sort of like weather reports and child birth training. Pretend that you know what you're doing so you feel better about the random, uncontrollable situation.

I'm trying a new driving experiment: smiling at people.

I noticed on the commute that at red lights I often look over at the car beside me. Somehow, at the same time, they look at me. (I think they see my head move out of the corner of their eye.)

Normally, I'm embarrassed for being "caught" looking at them, so I quickly look away. My face is in the perpetual driving scowl, which is so common on the roads.

No one ever smiles. Likewise, I never smile. This is going to change starting today! I'm going to document one full week of trying to smile at people who I see. Also, I'm going to give them a quick nod of my head, a quick "hello".

Here are the results:

Day 1: Tried catching the eyes of 3 people on the way to work. Not one of them looked back at me. One guy tail gated me, however, and I could see him motioning with his hand saying "cmon, move forward". That was silly because there was nowhere to go. I got angry and kept flashing my brakes at him. Bastard!

Day 2: Still no success. I looked over at one dude and he seemed to be staring over my head. Beady eyes, huge pick up truck, unshaven. I was immediately scared so I looked away.

Day 3: Noticed a lot of people listening to ipods in their cars. One guy passenger was listening to an ipod while his wife drove and had no ipod. A lot of fun in that household. Tried the smile at a gas station to someone who pulled up behind me, but I looked away before they could smile or frown back so I don't know the result. Maybe they didn't even see me.

Day 4: Hmmm, too tired today to make a strong effort. This is actually quite hard. Hard to remember to look at people and when I do, hard to remember to smile. I pulled up to one woman and kept staring over at her, hoping to catch her eye - as we were in a jam for awhile. I must have looked super freaky. The weird guy staring at her from the car in the next lane. She never even glanced in my direction.

Day 5: I looked over at some dude and couldn't tell if he was looking at me or not. He had huge sun glasses on. So I didn't smile. Didn't want to look like an idiot, smiling at nobody. That's it for the week. Overall, the experiment was a huge fail.

I have super powers when I drive.

I have two really cool driving superpowers. I don't use them all the time because I don't want to abuse my powers. Also, I always use my powers for good rather than evil.



1) The first power is called "Mega Move Over." Basically, I can force a car in the lane beside me to move over into my lane, ahead of me. As I'm driving I slowly let there be a big gap between me and the car in front of me. When the gap is big enough, I mentally say, "Mega move!" to the cars beside me. I say this over and over in my head. About 90% of the time a car in the lane beside me moves over into the huge gap that I've created!



2) The second power is called "Sneak forward." I can command a car behind me to move forward from a dead stop, at any time I want. What I do is this: At a red light I leave a pretty large gap between me and the car ahead. Then after I'm stopped for awhile I decide to take my foot off the break. I move forward by 2 or 3 meters. Then I look in the rear view mirror at the car behind and I command the driver to "Sneak forward". They always do. Sometimes even before I command them!



Having driving superpowers comes with immense responsibility. I'm basically controlling other people on the road. In one case I'm forcing them to change lanes. In the other, I'm forcing them to take their foot off the break and move forward.



Not everyone should have these powers because they can be a burden. In a way I feel almost cursed.

How to tell if someone is a good driver.

As a commuter, I've become great at judging drivers based on the car. Here we go:



BMW convertible or sports car convertible, top down

Balding, middle-aged man going through mid-life crisis. Generally safe driver but anger issues. Don't make him mad or he could rage.



Small hatchback from 1980s, Rabbit or civic

Bad driver car! Stay away from these people. They speed and change lanes without signalling and cut you off.



Old pick-up truck, burned out tail lights

You see this a lot where I live. Men in their 20s, aggressive, wearing no shirt. Into drugs or booze. They drive fast and sloppy. They'll hit and run because they don't care about the condition of the truck. Give them lots of room.



Huge pick up truck. Washed and clean. Gleaming black.

Okay drivers but they tailgate. Anger issues. The men driving are bald and angry. Will yell at you and finger you. Think they own the road and rarely stop at stop signs or yellow lights.



Small sporty car, red, a few years old.

Teenage girl, blond hair, not paying attention. Texting her friend on twitter and facebook. Chewing bubble gum. Dance music playing on radio. Fast, sloppy driver.



Huge new, clean, SUV, tinted windows.

Drug dealer or gangster. Not bad drivers, but be polite around them. You don't want to get shot. Also, don't park near them in case another gangster does a drive-by shooting and you get caught in cross fire.



Huge SUV, untinted windows

Tiny female, suburban soccer mom. Driving kids around. Husband works as lawyer or accountant in Vancouver and she's home all day with kids. Harried. Blond hair. Generally an okay driver, but drives fast and impatiently.