Just Me … Someone, Please Invent Teleporting

When I was growing up, my dad had a 15-minute commute to work, and I matured thinking that was typical. My whole world flipped upside down when I entered the real world and got myself a “real person” job, as I like to call it. My commute is a measly eight miles, but it takes a whole lot longer than you’d expect. It has taken up me up to 75 minutes to get to school. Yes, this is no joyride down a highway.
Instead, it is an action-packed, fast-paced, aggression-driven battle against D.C. traffic. Taxis swerve in and out of lanes, effectively controlling the traffic as they see fit and placing anyone else’s safety at the bottom of their lists. Sneaky pedestri-ans and bicyclists glide up beside the car and pass me by with a satisfied grin. Despite the attention needed to survive and surpass this road combat, I constantly find my mind wandering.
Sometimes, I reflect on my day, and I become angry with myself for something I did or something I neglected to do. Anger leads to loud music. Ok, maybe it’s loud Lady Gaga or Justin Timberlake music, but regardless, loud music often leads to aggressive and inattentive driving.
Unfortunately, this is not the only danger.
My mind also races around and sorts through the heaps and heaps of work that is awaiting me back at my apartment. And then my hand ever so slowly creeps over to my cell phone. Equipped with an internet-ready cell phone, I’m tempted by the op-portunity to knock out any e-mails I have planned to write or texts I so desperately need to send. I’m no longer driving my car, but rather, I’m driving my Blackberry. And I’m not the only one on the road doing this.
I irrationally rationalize my actions by promising myself that I’ll only do it at stoplights. What a ridiculous thought on my part. Driving requires full attention at all times. Who knows when those infuriating taxis will make a mistake and crash into me?
Without my eyes on the road, I have zero chance of getting out of the way. Clearly, I am aware of the risks. And believe me, my parents have drilled into my head the irresponsibleness of my behavior. So why do I bother taking this stupid risk?
I think it’s a manifestation of my generation’s multi-tasking mindset. Efficiency is the name of our game, and I get physically upset when I waste time to the point that I waste even more time get-ting over it. Sadly, the mere act of transporting myself from one location to another seems like a waste of time. I’m coming to realize, though, that an accident would “waste” even more time.
Someone please invent teleporting so I can clock an even lower commute time than my father. Saving time and saving lives…a true achievement of efficiency.
Visalli, 23, is pursuing a master’s degree at The George Washington University in the special education of children with emotional and behavioral disabilities.