I can’t decide whether to call today Rabbit-hole Hopping or Whack-a-Mole. And then there were the tailgaters.

Tailgating? In snow? There wasn’t a lot of snow and the surface roads I take to work seemed pretty okay but I (and MOST other folks) were going a wee bit below the speed limit. Not much, 2-5 mph or thereabouts. I had tailgaters ALL THE WAY over there, even though the folks IN FRONT OF ME were going about the same speed I was. THREE times, some a**hole tailgater indignantly revved his engines and passed me. The last of these squealed around me on squiggly little Tech Drive in our business park so he could make the left turn onto Data Drive, also my turn, a couple seconds before me. Fortunately, he turned into Truck Hero, meaning he wasn’t somebody I work with, which would be really awkward. I hope he was happy. I didn’t much care if I held him up. I was going exactly the speed limit (25) and did NOT want to spend the morning figuring out how to get me and my vee-hickle out of a pond. Jeebus.

As it turned out, slow and steady won the race for many folks. Nikio texted that she was stuck in traffic on the freeway. I checked maps and yes, the freeways that ring The Planet Ann Arbor were totally red and there were accidents all over the place. People. Slow down and keep a safe distance! Old Man Winter is still throwing snowballs at us.

We won’t talk about the Rabbit-hole Hopping or Whack-a-mole. That’s what I did all day and I could not describe it to y’all if I tried. Suffice it to say it involves the most convoluted Old-Skool javascript you could imagine and an attempt to drag our product into html5. I am a good programmer, albeit one who was often tearing her hair out today. I am not bragging. Actually, I don’t know why more women are not working in the IT biz as programmers/developers but that’s a subject for another day. To be clear, I am not currently *employed* as a programmer or developer, but my business systems analyst job often involves debugging crappy old javascript and I am more than equal to the task.

Finally, I struggle (or not) to understand why anyone would name their child after Donald Trump, especially an Afghan family (google it). I am not in any way shape or form a Trump supporter but I acknowledge that he has a lot of supporters in his “base” (whatever that means) and I will guess that many children in our beautiful country are being named after him. I kind of wonder how those children will regard their names as they grow into independent teenagers/adults with their own thoughts and opinions. As a child who was named something I don’t particularly like and as a mother who named a child something she doesn’t particularly like, I think the answer will be all over the map.

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