Life is a highway, or more accurately, a freeway. That's a metaphor. But it actually happened.

I ride the bus to my Grown-Up Job, right out of the city and to a new city. It's a weird way to get to and from work, because it feels like an epic journey, and yet it only takes an hour, which is how long plenty of people spend getting to work--only they spend it in their cars, instead of relaxing in a "highway coach." Plus my bus passes are tax-deductible. I'm going to get rich this way.*

Last week I saw a truck going the other way, one of those big transport trucks, but the kind with a tank on the back (for chemicals) instead of a box (for boxes of frozen Big Macs). And on the tank, in small subtle writing, it said Delivering Responsible Solutions. Ever since, in the back of my mind, I've been working on a mental list of the responsible solutions sloshing around in the back of a truck on the freeway:

• Go to work anyway.
• Call the insurance company and explain what happened.
• Download a new anti-virus program, and if that doesn't work, call tech support.
• Tell him the truth.

*This reminds me of the Simpsons where Homer finds out you can sell food grease, so he buys all this bacon and eats it to sell the grease. IE., not a solid net money-making idea.