11:33 AM. Polish off second cup of coffee. If I leave now I'll get there earlier than yesterday. Means I'll wait longer before they get out, but I'll be farther ahead in the line. Fine by me.
11:45 AM. Forgot that this road leads back from lunch to the largest single employer in Georgia. My advantage over yesterday is totally shot.
11:48 AM. Moody is clear and I make an easy left onto 96. Maybe I've beat the rush.
12:00 PM. Stop driving perfectly on time...in a line of cars at least a quarter mile from the school.
12:01 PM. Cars fill all visible road behind me. State Road 96 is now a parking lot.
12:10 PM. Ten-minute mark. Realize that thought process resembles apocalyptic log.
12:11 PM. See woman walk by toward the school. Wonder where her car is.
12:13 PM. Regretting that second cup of coffee.
12:14 PM. Several cars pull out of the line and turn around. The majority of us have nowhere else to go.
12:16 PM. Gentleman jogs pas the car. Heat haze makes me think that cars ahead of me are moving. Just a cruel mirage.
12:17 PM. Girl and her little sister walk toward school. Their mom must have stayed in her air-conditioned car.
12:18 PM. Really regretting that second cup of coffee.
12:19 PM. Playlist ended. Can't be bothered to find new tunes.
12:21 PM. Moved twelve feet forward. Saw first woman walk back with happy daughter.
12:22 PM. Movement becoming more frequent. Still not in sight of school.
12:23 PM. Catch glimpse of highlighter-yellow-vested traffic cop. Second gentleman walks back. Daughter as tall as he is.
12:24 PM. Gentleman gives truck driver behind me directions. Truck skirts around me and bypasses the madness.
12:25 PM. In sight of school. Moving frequently. Memorizing log entries for later transcription.
12:26 PM. Intensely regretting that second cup of coffee.
12:27 PM. See cars pulled over in grass on side of road, drivers walking. Tempting, but it's prohibitively hot and I'm a wuss.
12:29 PM. Aforementioned grass-car is under the impression that she can make a left back onto this road. Due to the mercy of strangers she somehow succeeds.
12:30 PM. Kid rides by on bike, wondering what in the world is going on. I'm right there with you, kid.
12:31 PM. World has turned sufficiently that my window arm is now in the shade. Small mercies.
12:33 PM. Realization hits that the school has consolidated its two pickup lines into one for the day. WHY?! is unclear.
12:34 PM. Hope I turned off the coffee pot. Try not to think about coffee.
12:35 PM. Highlighter cop's job really sucks.
12:36 PM. Regretting every cup of coffee I've ever had.
12:40 PM. Turn on J-Rock, sing along, and headbob so that the woman in front of me who keeps looking in her rearview will wonder what I'm doing.
12:42 PM. See more grass-cars. Tempted again, but I'm so close now.
12:44 PM. Enter the school parking lot. Pass by king of the highlighter cops.
12:45 PM. Reach the point at which I stopped driving at noon yesterday.
12:46 PM. Can't quite bring self to regret discovery of coffee bean.
12:50 PM. Spot a parking monitor huddling in a rare patch of shade. Lucky guy.
12:56 PM. Pickup successful. First order of business: find a bathroom.
12:59 PM. Can't get back onto 96 from Flash Foods. Take an alternate route home. Have an adventure.
1:37 PM. Arrive home. Confirm that I did, in fact, turn off the coffee pot.