If Looks Could Kill

I have once before mentioned that I am not a nice person without sleep. (read more about that here) I have been awake since 02h30 this morning. After a meager 4 hours of sleep, my brain decided it was time to tear my eyes open and start thinking. I had a long debate with my brain and fought over control of my eyes, but my brain, far more clever than I, won the argument, and so by 03h30 I was up and about, finding ways to waste time before getting ready for work.

It comes as no surprise therefore, that I am not my usual cheerful self. No, I'm not in a bad mood, per se, but I would venture to say that I'm just not ready for a civil conversation as yet. I may become ready after the tenth or perhaps eleventh cup of coffee. This, despite my 2012 resolution to give up caffeine. Hmm.

I don't know how many of you have watched Twilight (the first one, yes) and can recall the scene in which Edward Cullen appears just in time to save Bella Swan from a group of nasty thugs... If you're a man, you'll know it as the scene where he swings that Volvo around in the most impressive J-turn. For us ladies, we remember "The Look".

The Look is the expression that Edward Cullen wore when staring down the thugs - the dark eyes, almost burning a hole right through the thug's face with a smoldering blackness pouring out of his gaze. It's a look that says, "One more move, and I. Will. Kill. You."

I have always been fascinated by The Look, and have spent years trying to master it. Unfortunately, many failed attempts have resulted in me just appearing sulky. Or petulant. My husband tells me that I look about as dangerous as an angry kitten, and instead of being terrifying, i'm just adorable enough to pat on the head and say, "Aaah shame, she's angry!'

Anyways, back to today. I'm usually a very chilled person in traffic. Cut me off, I don't mind. If you don't endanger my life, I won't bat an eyelid. Do what you want, I'm a duck, and you're literally slipping off my back.
Not today. In my sleep-deprived state today, I happen to care. As a young gentleman in a polo discovered the hard way.

Two lanes of traffic, moving the same speed (slow). I leave a half-car length in front of me to be safe, and polo-dude decides to cut me off, just to see if my lane is moving a smidgen faster than his. Two seconds. He looks in his rearview mirror. Split-second. He's back in the other lane.

What.... just... happened...? Is it possible...? Yes...? I'd like to think that for the first time, I have managed to master The Look. I'd like to believe that polo-dude was utterly intimidated by the chilling, cold-hearted murderous-ness in my eyes... Oh, the power...!

Fear me, Fellow Inhabitants! Feeeaaaarrrr mmeeeeeeeeee.