My White Whale

Are you familiar with the book, Moby Dick? If not, just Google it. I don't have time to instill culture in your life.

As if I have culture.

Or even read that book myself. That makes me laugh.

Anyway, to have a white whale in one's life is to have that thing (or things) that obsess you. And it becomes somewhat of a mission to destroy it. Or beat it. I have found my white whale.

Behold...

The United States Postal Service. Specifically - - this truck.

Monday through Friday, without fail, he cuts me off.  I'm not even playing. Ask my kids. When I pick the kids up from school, he's turning left onto Knickerbocker Rd. at the same time I'm turning right. We both have green lights. But he is supposed to yield to me. Right?  But he must sense weakness in me. Because every stupid day, he turns in front of me.

If he doesn't turn in front of me, he barrels into my lane. With me there.

He is my white whale. A big bully in a government vehicle.

Revenge shall be mine.