Personal Rules I've Recently Broken

I hate highway usurpers -- those people who deliberately stay in a fast moving lane, knowing that they need to merge into the slower moving lane to their right or left, but put it off until the last second, then duck into a gap. (Or more likely, come to a complete halt while they wait for a gap, thus slowing even more traffic.)

I have become that person. The 10 is killing me. Wide open until La Brea, then an infuriating crawl into downtown. Sometimes I leave at 7:45 and it takes an hour to go the 17 miles to work. Downtown Los Angeles, a clump of skyscrapers on the horizon, taunts me like a smoggy Emerald City. Except today, I left at 7:45 and was at work in 35 minutes.

I'm also a remorseless maker of U-turns and three point turns -- another habit I used to loathe in other drivers. The only thing I can say in my defense is that Los Angeles streets are made for these kinds of maneuvers, with built-in designated left-hand lanes down the length of most major thoroughfares, unlike Chicago, which is at least partially constrained by a grid system designed for street cars and a light smattering of traffic.

Both of these failings way on me, although not so much I'll stop doing them. But nothing troubles me more than the ease with which I have accepted the primary requirement of my new job: To tell the unvarnished truth. Last week, if you'd asked me an awkward question, I would have answered with diplomatic tact, making sure I was not stepping on any toes. This week, no diplomacy, all Truth Bombs.