Summer dreamin'

It's Monday. The developed world drives to work. Most of said developed world appears to be on the same freeway as me, driving poorly.

It's March. It's cold. We long for sunshine, blue skies and an escape from this daily grind.

Sunshine is in the car now beside me, with its vanity plate reading chx2obx.

In license-plate speak, that either means, Checks to Outer Banks, meaning that the lovely blonde is still paying the bills for her last vacation to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, USA; or, more likely, Chicks to Outer Banks.

Which would be a wistful/hopeful/delightful statement, along the lines of telling the world that she and her girlfriends know where to go to have summertime fun.

A glamorous, long, all-white cigarette burns in her fingers, a pretty sight indeed, and a little consolation awarded to herself for having faced the Monday blues. For a moment I imagine her taking the exit to Carolina instead of Town X, heading to the beach instead of to work, shedding her office wear for something a lot more comfortable and sandproof, parking her suntan lotion, a cold drink and a pack of her favorite cigarettes in the warm sand, stretching out beneath the sun and wiggling her toes, reading a beach book and looking radiant and lovely.

But she is a Responsible Citizen and takes the Town X exit and I continue down the dreary freeway to my own Responsible Citizen destination.