My daily commute has only gotten longer with my new living arrangements, but for the moment it's enough of a novelty that I'm still enjoying it. I get an interesting tour of the city every day: from farmland to the industrial districts, into the commercial zones, circumnavigate downtown and the spaghetti strainers on top of Bartle Hall, through another commercial zone and over a trainyard, into the suburbs, and finally to the fringes of the posh business district of Overland Park. Dad said I must feel like that guy in the commerical, who has to parachute off his front yard to get to his car at the bottom of the mountain. Yeah, something like that. Only base jumping would be faster and slightly less dangerous.
The first leg of my commute takes me along a lengthy rural two-lane highway, past a couple of major trucking distribution centers. So there are semis coming and going constantly; on high-wind days it can be a real adventure. Yesterday as I was driving in, a truck roared past me and somehow flung a decent-sized rock at my windshield. I saw it coming but couldn't do anything except duck. It glanced off and made a spiderweb crack the size of a quarter on the passenger side. Grr. So that's one more thing I'll have to get repaired. Let's hope it doesn't spread.