Just like everyone else, I like to dream of what I would do if I had a milliion dollars.  Or 30 million, but one million would suffice.  I know for certain that I would have to get a driver.  And they would drive me everywhere.  To work (becuase I'd still probably have to work if one million was won), shopping, to bars (of course!) and just to the neighborhood grocery store.  I hate driving so much that I think part of the reason I hate working is knowing I have to drive my car to get there!  If anything remotely crazy happens whilst I am slowly inching down the freeway a flutter of contionously obscene words spew from my mouth.  

I've been honked and screamed at for waiting at a red light to the on-ramp, for merging on to the freeway when the person in the lane I am merging in to is 100 yards behind me but then speeds up when he sees I am merging.  And a weird one the other day, the guy I was behind was going about 10 miles under the speed limit so I simply move into the left lane to pass and he decides to race me, only to have to slam on his breaks when he comes inches from the car in front of him.  It was an odd moment.  And I use "he" because I notice that 9 times out of 10 the crazy driver yelling at me is a guy.  This does not surprise me.  And 8 times out of 10 that "guy" is over the age of 50.  Which warrants a big hmmmmmmmm.  I know what you are thining, I'm one of those horrible get-off-the-road-you-don't-know-what-you're-doing girl drivers.....but no.  I was once told (about 10 years ago) by a guy friend of mine that I was really a very good driver.  A compliment I carry with me and compliments don't come with an expiration date as far as I'm concerned.