My children have always been concerned for my safety while driving. They've never worried so much about me having an accident, but rather that I'm going to get beaten up at a stoplight or somewhere because I'm screeching at some driver not paying attention. The whole time they're shushing me, I'm screaming, "Where'd you get your driver's license, Sears and Roebuck?" They claim that they knew road rage before anyone else ever used the term.

It's not that I think these drivers are idiots, because after all, they passed the driver's license test. So at some point in their lives they had enough common sense to read the manual and memorize the rules. It seems to me the problem is they've forgotten more than they learned.

Now, let me say in my defense, I'm a very calm person under most circumstances. I'm not prone to panic, and the majority of time if I'm going to have a breakdown, it's going to be after the whole situation is over. But there's just something about being at the mercy of other drivers that pushes me over the edge.

For instance, there is the driver who is pulling out of a side street or driveway. You know he can see you from a half a mile away because you can see him. But every time, he will wait until you are within three car lengths to pull out in front of you. And, of course, he’s only going to do about 25 mph when you are doing at least 40 or 50. Even though he knows you’re behind him, does he speed up quickly? Definitely not. By this time I'm hollering, "If you were in such a hurry to pull out, speed up, weirdo!" And, of course, this means I have to run right up behind him, blow my horn, and ride his bumper until I can pass.

Another irritating driver is the one who passes you on the interstate where you're both doing 70 mph (yeah, right), and gets just past you and almost scrapes your front bumper pulling back over in front of you. Odds are that guy is going to slow down where you have to eventually pass him. That driver is often the one who is in the passing lane on an interstate but only doing the minimum speed limit. Or better yet, gets in the passing lane and sets his cruise to the same speed as the car he’s passing. You’re stuck behind both of them. It’s no wonder my hair is getting thinner.

How about the driver who wants to turn left in an "exit only" lane but pulls over into the right-hand side? Because I'm going to make a right-hand turn, I have to sit and wait until this goober can cross traffic when he should have been in the left-hand lane in the first place.

I have seen people driving down the interstate reading papers propped up on the steering wheel, looking in the rear-view mirror putting on makeup, talking on cell phones, texting on cell phones, turned completely around in the seat fussing at kids, and believe it or not, one lady holding a cup of Baskin-Robbins ice cream in one hand and a spoon in her other hand. Unless she had a third hand on the steering wheel, I determined she must be steering with her feet.

All of this has made me a defensive driver, and I assume that's why I get so hostile behind the wheel. I feel like everyone's out to get me when I'm trying to be careful. I'm trying to do better with my hostility. I've probably not hollered at more than a couple of lunatics this week.

I've decided there needs to be a group for us irritated drivers, so anyone interested in forming one, let me know. We'll call ourselves MDD, Mad Defensive Drivers, and we'll have meetings. The first thing we can do at each meeting is calm each other down enough to eat cake. My kids will then rest easier knowing I'm getting the help I need.

A NOTE TO YOU MEN: If I use the term “he“, I’m using it in the generic sense, but if you recognize yourself, well, then so be it. But take heart, there’s just as many women with the same problems.