Crash [H.S.]

one

Joselyn Myers

I knew that moving to LA would bring many new things to my life, good and bad. I figured I'd discover new hobbies, meet new people, and most importantly, I would be able to work at my dream job, but I also anticipated finding new things that would stress me out. But what I didn't think would happen is that moving to this crazy town would cause me to develop a passionate frustration for something that I didn't even give a second thought back home in Michigan.

Driving.

I've been driving since I was 17 and first got my learner's permit and I never had a problem with it, but once I learned about the hectic driving habits of LA drivers, I can say with confidence that I now despise it. Not the act, but the things that happen around me.

"Seriously!" I shouted as I slammed on the horn of my 2015 Honda Civic, moving my head to the side to try and get a look at the driver who just cut me off.

I let go of the horn and flipped off the driver in front of me, hoping that they saw me in their rear view mirror. I then moved into the next lane to swivel around them to get to my exit faster. When the correct exit showed in my vision I slowed down to get off and took the next right to go in the direction of my apartment building.

"Fucking annoying." I mumbled under my breath once I was on the less crowded street on the way to my apartment, turning up the music coming through the speakers and humming along to the tune of Lights Up by Harry Styles.

Such a good song, by such a good man.

Hearing the peaceful music seemed to calm my nerves and I pulled into the parking lot outside of my apartment building and into my usual spot with a sigh of relief. After putting it in park, I leaned over to the passenger seat and gathered my belongings which included my purse, phone, and large shoulder bag holding all my work documents from today.

Being an editor for a magazine includes a lot of papers, some holding the most important information on it, others being a waste of trees if I'm honest, but I was grateful that only so much of my job relied on documents since most of my work was saved on the hard drive of my work computer. Once I had all my things gathered in my hands, I opened my door and kicked it closed with my foot once I was out so I wouldn't drop anything.

After making the short walk up to the front doors of my apartment building, I headed through the lobby and into the elevators, pressing the button for the 6th floor with my elbow. I watched as the lights moved up each number as it headed up the building until it stopped at my floor. I stepped off and made my way down to the end of the hallway until I stood in front of my door, dangling my keys around until I was holding the one to unlock the door. I jimmied it around, finally managing to get it unlocked before pushing through the door and closing it behind me. I immediately walked to my left so I was in the kitchen, letting out another long sigh.

This week my boss wanted us to focus on all the new fragrance lines that were being released by celebrities. Almost as if every celebrity in Hollywood decided that this was the perfect week to open up their fragrance line. There was so much back up with articles that I just wanted to rip my hair out at this point.

Working for a big magazine company was always my biggest dream, and I was over the moon that I was doing just that. I've been a senior editor for The Hollywood Reporter for the past two years now and I love everything about my job. But on days like this, I really wish I would've taken on my second choice career of opening up a flower shop because after today, I don't think I can ever look at another photo of a bottle of perfume without wanting to scream.

I dropped my things on the island counter and dragged my feet across the floor until I was standing in the middle of my living room. I rotated my head around, just taking in the comforting feeling of finally being home after such a long day at work, before lunging onto the end of the wrap around sofa that was placed at the edge of the room.