Project Life 365 – Day 65 – Daily Commute

Okay, so it’s not really my daily commute since Cadence is only attending preschool two days a week at this point, but it still counts.

My blog. My rules. Remember?

So, here is what I see that irritates me every single time I pull into the parking lot to drop off and pick up my daughter from school–a whole line of cars sitting in the Fire Lane.

Call me petty, but here’s my issue…

It’s the Fire Lane, people.

FIRE LANE!

If you are not on fire or equipped to fight a fire, then you have no business parking there, waiting there, idling there, or whatever it is you’re doing there. Nevermind the fact that the school handbook politely states that no one is allowed to park there…ever. And nevermind the fact that the school actually too the time and the resources to print up a nice little Fire Lane explanation, complete with detailed map, to send home with each student to show the parents, grandparents, babysitters, nannies, and caregivers the proper procedure for pulling into the parking lot and parking (completely bypassing the clearly marked Fire Lane) to drop off and pick up students safely.

Honestly, unless the administration starts booby trapping the Fire Lane with spikes and land mines, I don’t know how much clearer they can make it.

PL365Day65DailyCommute

I’m Baaaaaaack…

And I’ve gotta rant about some Sidewalk Chalk Nazis out in Colorado.

But before I spout off, you should probably read a little background information here…

Sidewalk Chalk Art Against the Rules in Stapleton

First of all, I want to say that it pains me to speak ill of any community in Colorado right now. With the wildfires raging and destroying homes as I sit here writing this, I’m half-fearing some sort of immediate karmic backlash from the Universe if I unleash on the group of morons in Stapleton who are trying to keep a 3-year-old from coloring on the sidewalk with chalk. But, I can’t help myself. This news story popped up on my phone while I was on vacation last week, sending both Steven and I into tizzy, and it’s been bothering me ever since. So, today, as my vacation has officially come to an end and I begin to settle back into a routine, I figured I better get this one off my chest before I pop a blood vessel.

Here’s the deal, people. Even the most optimistic person has to admit that times are tough right now. Our economy is in the toilet. People are losing their jobs and their homes. We’ve got brave men and women in our armed forces being killed to protect our freedoms overseas. The costs on almost everything are rising. Fires are burning out of control. And people are literally chewing each other’s faces off.

It’s a shitstorm out there, my friends.

And yet, in spite of all the craziness and negativity, humans have a very natural instinct to find the simple beauty in life and hold fast to it. Little things like sharing a hot cup of coffee with a friend, singing along to a favorite song on the radio, and feeling a cool breeze against your face on a hot day are often the things that make all the difference, the things that keep us going in spite of all the odds stacked against us.

To put it simply, sometimes a little sidewalk chalk is exactly the therapy we need to get us through a difficult day.

Hell, Cadence and I had fun drawing with some sidewalk chalk on the patio just this afternoon…

So what’s the big problem?

Apparently, a sub-committee of a local HOA in a neighborhood in Stapleton has received complaints from a few of the residents, and they’re saying that “because it is a shared space, anything that offends, disturbs or interferes with the peaceful enjoyment isn’t allowed.”

Seriously??? What the hell is wrong with these people? They’re so miserable, they make Ebenezer Scrooge look like that cuddly little bear from the Snuggle fabric softener commercials.

Here’s my response to the complainers and the Courtyard Committee…If a 3-year-old drawing her ABC’s and some pictures of hearts, flowers, and balloons on the sidewalk is disturbing or offensive to you, you need to seek immediate medical help, because that stick you’ve got wedged up your ass has obviously migrated north and is starting to affect the parts of your brain that regulate logical thought, pleasure, empathy and compassion. If your health insurance won’t cover a complete asshole-removal and personality transplant, feel free to drop by my house tomorrow afternoon. I’ll gladly slap you in the face a half-dozen times to try and knock some sense into your empty head.

And if that doesn’t work, I’m fresh out of ideas, and I might have to admit that the old saying is right…You just can’t fix stupid.

So, tonight, I’m soliciting prayers for the people out in Colorado. Please take a moment to pray for the people affected by the wildfires, and the brave firefighters trying to bring them under control. And please pray for the hardhearted morons in Stapleton that have forgotten what it feels like to have fun.

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