It occurred to me on the bus ride home last night why I prefer to take public transportation. Yes, I am still beating that dead horse. Why someone would beat an animal, in particular a dead animal is beyond me. Anyway, I have had people look at me like I am mad when I tell them that I have bused to work in Portland from Salem, Milwaukie, and now Vancouver, Washington. One man said, "I wouldn't have the patience!" But for me, it gives me time. If I was driving, especially in traffic, that would be all I could do. Driver. I could listen to the radio. I could think. But mostly I would be driving. And my knuckles would be white from clutching the steering wheel too tightly. I have observed freeway traffic in Portland from the Max. And lately, it looks more like southern California. I have way too much anxiety to submit myself to that. On the bus, I can read, I can knit, I can check emails and place phone calls. I can even nap. Going back to driving would send ...