Apparently crosswalks are optional...

Earlier this evening I bundled up, grabbed my iPod and strapped on my tennies (Anne Klein not Nike, but hey, it's me here!) and set out to get some exercise in.
I had big plans.

"I'm going to do this every day."

"Heck, I can do it in the winter,too. I do have Yaktrax after all."

"This is great exercise, kinda sorta almost as fun as riding my bike in the summertime."

I strutted and strutted some more.

I ventured off the trail so I could head down to the lake. If I'm within a block of water I can't just not go to the shore. That just isn't natural!
I came to the crosswalk on the corner and waited.
And waited some more.
So pleasant and patient.
Even a little longer. Cars continued to buzz past me, south on Highway 61. North on Highway 61. Wrrrrrrrrr.
Zoom. Zoom.
Patience deserted me.
I put my hands on my hips and assumed my bitch stance.
Immediately cars from both directions came to a halt and I nearly skipped across the street.

"It still got it," I thought.

On my journey back I honestly expected no troubles. The complete insanity of earlier surely had been a fluke.
Not so much...
I waited.
Waited.
Saw a break in the traffic and proceeded to cross. Then I nearly got plowed over by a van—a van that had a handicapped parking pass hanging from the rear view mirror.

"Do you want me to join you for wheelchair basketball?" I screamed at the van.

Yes, I really and truly did say that.

I had to finish running across the street as I realized yet another approaching car was not going to stop. I pointed at the crosswalk. He simply pointed at his phone as if to indicate "Don't bother me, I'm on the phone."

I was passed by a dog walker as I neared home. I hate getting passed. It made me feel bad.

Then I realized I wasn't quite sure if the dog walker was a man or a woman. So I held my head high (sticking out my chest to celebrate my girlie bits) and walked to my door, with plans for yet another walk.