It's come to this: I brag about my commute.
Here in Atlanta, where it's not unusual to hear someone mention casually that their commute to work is "only 45 minutes," it's an accepted fact that the drive to work and home will be long and will suck the life out of you.
Me, I start to get twitchy after 15 minutes. Much longer and I'm a poster child for Our National Problem of Road Rage.
So, when it was time to move to the city that AC/DC had in mind when they wrote "Highway to Hell," I chose carefully, triangulating all possible routes to and from work. Which, in my case, led me here to Sandy Springs.
Now I can finally tell you my greatest achievement since moving to Atlanta: My commute to work in Buckhead is ten minutes.
Okay. Sometimes it's eleven. And if it makes you feel better, the trip home is almost never less than 15 because of all the left turns.
Yep. I brag about my commute. Wouldn't you?