Signals

You know I'm stressed at work when I start yelling at pedestrians, and dang if it didn't happen today. Earlier this afternoon L and I were on our way up to Central Park for an eight-mile run, and we were waiting for the light to change at 7th & Grove so we could continue up 7th, towards the subway. We stood there waiting patiently for the light to change so we could walk. There were cars waiting to cross in front of us. Then these two moon-faced chicks start wandering through the intersection, ignoring both the stoplight and the "Don't Walk" icon shining steadily before them. One of them had her nose buried in a guidebook and the other one was looking for traffic on the one-way street from the wrong direction. Before I could stop myself, I was talking.

"Be careful, that car's going to hit you," I said, pointing to the car a foot from their calves, which was patiently waiting for them to cross so that it could move on its green light. I was sort of hoping the driver would honk, but he didn't.

"Thanks," one of the girls replied listlessly.

"I can't believe that," L said, shaking her head.

"I know!" I replied. "How can they be so oblivious! They're the reason traffic is so horrible--"

"No, I can't believe you," L said, clarifying her point. "Why were you talking to them?"

"Because they were being stupid," I said patiently. "This is a community issue."

I explained how pedestrians have to share the road too, and how there's a time and place for jaywalking, but L did not seem particularly interested in my points, even though I felt they were strong. But it was a helpful reminder that yelling at pedestrians is an indicator that I need to manage my stress in new and different ways.