Dude. Get off your cell phone. You're going to kill someone. I guarantee your call is not that important.
What are you doing, talking about work? If your job were really that important, you'd be there already or you wouldn't have left. But you did leave. You don't live there. You have a life. Live it.
Maybe you're on the phone with your family. Or your friend. Or a telemarketer. None of those people want you to die. Then again, they probably have better things to do than talk to you. Get off the phone.
And think of what you're missing. You're missing the guy in the car next to you picking his nose. You're missing the lady in the truck behind you singing, "A Moment Like This," at the top of her lungs. You're missing the lake on your left, the park on your right, and skyline up ahead. Heck, you barely missed me when you almost ran me over. Hang up. Or flip down. Whatever. Just stop talking.
And I don't care if you have a headset. It's not your hands I'm concerned about, it's that brain of yours that is somewhere else. Please, drive, pay attention, and don't kill me. That's my advice. You'll never ask, because you have to take this call . . . but I'm texting you right now. GOTP.