Careful what you wish for

As we were out walking, I was asking Claren what I should right about. My ride got me to work early today, and I didn't want to write about that even though it is frustrating that I cannot tell until I roll into work whether I will be on time, half an hour early or an hour late.

I do have some thoughts I am working on, but I am not quite ready to unleash them on the world, maybe my little sister, but not the world.

Then as we were crossing the street, the topic reared up in front of me and almost killed me.

Actually, it was on my right side.

I crossed the first two lanes of my street with no problem and started across the other two lanes. They were clear ... but out of nowhere, a car started shooting toward me.

I didn't really have many options at this point. It's not like I could speed up or turn around. I guess I could have waved my arms at the car but that would have meant stopping my chair. I decided to just fix the driver with my steely gaze. And keep moving to get the hell off the street.

It worked. The car began slowing about 10 or 15 yards before me and as it slowly passed me, the driver held out his hand, as if to say: "My bad."

Once I was out of the line of fire, I raised my hand, too, meaning: "What the hell?"

I was not particularly mollified by his hand gesture, but I am not sure what the correct sign is to express: "Sorry I almost killed you."