I've been commuting a 33 mi. highway commute on the 85 and 101 in Silicon Valley since starting my new job in April. The best days take 40 minutes, the average day takes 60 minutes. The worst day so far was 110 minutes, and it was on a day of a director-level review of our work, so I was already stressed out, and being in bumper-to-bumper for 2 hours instead of arriving early as planned nearly had me clawing off my own face.
Today I found a new place, less than 5 miles from work. It's a mother-in-law cottage behind a co-worker's main house. It's 1 bedroom, cute kitchen, with washer and dryer in their own little atrium; private yard. Pretty great. It's more than I wanted to pay, but it's not an apartment, so there are no shared walls, and no one living above me; my commute will disappear, I'll be able to regain 2 hours out of every day; I'll be out of my sister's house so she can get her normal life back.
I'm in a pretty good mood right now.
I just absorbed all your vices because I can handle them like a real man. Call me The Green Mile.
Handle them until some male stranger express dislike of your wardrobe. Then it's tears and internet posts.
