Two hours and fifteen minutes

That's how long my commute was this morning. Longer than a movie! Longer than an American Idol finale! The most frustrating aspect of literally inching along in miles of traffic for so long was the time it took me to simply get out of El Segundo: an hour and twenty minutes. I left my apartment at 9:21, and at 10:45, I was only about a mile and a quarter from home, stuck on that expanse of Lincoln between In-N-Out and the Loyola Marymount area.
I'd at first tried my usual route of Vista del Mar to Culver, but made a U-turn on Vista about a quarter of a mile into it, when traffic was stopped dead. I then made my way to Sepulveda via Imperial, but traffic was bumper-to-bumper there, too. (I laughed bitterly when I saw a sign for construction on Sepulveda that said road work had started there this summer and is scheduled to end IN 2010. That's THREE YEARS FROM NOW.)
Frantically, I swerved over to Lincoln, and because of the center barricade there, had no choice but to stay put, despite moving even more slowly there than I did on Sepulveda.
Of course, I'd been swigging coffee this whole time, so about an hour into this odyssey, the bladder, it was full. I tried reading an old Newsweek from August that was lying on the floor of my car. I got through My Turn and scanned a piece about how Barack Obama comes off as a little too high-falutin' for "downscale dems" like myself. But the bladder, it was on fire! I couldn't concentrate on the magazine because I was too worried about peeing my pants. I scanned my car for empty water bottles and found one I could pee in if things became dire. (I had to do this once, back in I think 1996, when S and I were trapped in a blizzard on I-81 in northeastern Pennsylvania. They shut down the interstate, and we were on it. Four hours later, we were still on it. Peeing in a bottle was a necessity.) The stretch of Lincoln on which I was trapped this morning is barren---it runs along the northern periphery of the airport, I think, and there's nowhere to exit except for Westchester Parkway, but that exit's on the right, and I was stuck in the left lane, so...no dice.
Finally, I was able to get off Lincoln farther north, and duck into a Ralph's to pee. After that I felt a little more clear-headed and a little less crazy, and traffic finally started to move, too. I was able to get on Jefferson, shoot up to Centinela, and finally make my way east to the Westside. And here I am, finally at work, with nothing to do.
The cause of all of this wretched traffic jamming, I found out, was a fatal truck accident on the 405 right near where I live. It sounds totally awful and horrifying, and I feel terrible for the person who was killed and his family. It's chilling to think a person could head out on his commute one morning, just as he always does, and never make it to his destination. So, I'm grateful I'm here, despite the extra-long commute.