This is unfinished, but I like it anyway, so I'm posting it. So Nyah.

It was this morning that I found myself driving north along a bumpy south-austin road, holding in my left hand a betta fish. To be more accurate, I suppose it was this morning that I discovered that I had to drive north alongs said street, holding said fish in said hand, while driving my cranky stick-shift Jeep to work.
It started with oversleeping. This is a hobby of mine, in which I cannot often enough participate. Before Toshi started having to get to work early with me, I could fall asleep for twenty minutes at the drop of a hat. I'd find all kinds of excuses to fail to awaken at the proper time, from cloudy weather to even the mildest tickles in my throat. Now, with the juggernaut of wakefulness that is Toshismurf in the morning, I tend to be on my feet and bathed as much as an hour before work begins.
This morning, though, I decided to polish my rapidly rusting oversleeping skills, and sent her on to work before me. I snoozed, reveling in how smart I felt for allowing myself an extra forty minutes or so of unconsciousness. I took a liesurely shower and was out of the house by 9:15. It's the latest I've risen in longer than I care to remember. I remembered the fish.
The fish, a betta, a gift won by a friend of ours at a family reunion for happening to sit in the right chair at the right moment, was to be given to a coworker of mine who has a fondness, even a soft-spot for such fish. It's hard, though, to have a soft spot for more than about two, with limited office space. You can't double them up in their bowls, as they will kill each other. He kept a pet betta alive for some months, and has since replaced it with an albino individual. I was bringing him a blue and purple one.
Backing out of my garage wasn't difficult. The driveway has a distinct slope and I just gave the car the gentlest of nudges and let it roll backwards. I had to maneuver around two cars in the driveway, which I managed with no trouble. I'm a very good driver. Dad lets me drive in the driveway. I gave the wheel a pull and was on the street and facing north. No trouble, right?
At this point, I carefully put the car into first gear, holding the steering wheel steady with my left knee, and let off the clutch. The car jerked a little and a single drop of water made the short journey from the very-full fish bowl to my left wrist.
"A single drop never hurt anything." I thought momentarily of bankers on Black Monday, and smiled without correcting myself.
I set the car to moving, holding the steering wheel with my right hand. I switched and held it steady with my left knee while shifting. As long as I never had to turn while shifting gears, I was fine. I made it to the bottom of the hill near my house, turned left onto Manchaca, and, holding the wheel steady, accelerated north toward my work.
I am lucky, in that it only takes me some ten to twelve minutes to commute, discounting random traffic jams. At 9:30 in the morning, there tends not to be another car on the road. I made most of the lights, and managed not to cause any mayhem on the ones I missed, all the way to Ben White. At Ben White, known variously as 290, 71 and 21, and Manchaca, I stopped and waited at the light.
The fish was being remarkably calm. It retreated to the bottom of its bowl as we started, but was now swimming around, inspecting the two bits of betta chow I'd dropped into the water and which were now floating dejected at the sides of the meniscus like the crumbs of sad little cheerios. I also brought the blister-packed food with me. By using a cunning pair of chutes, the food managed to remain in the pack, despite its being open, unless the card was turned 180 degrees, so I was not alarmed at the pack sitting upside down on the seat.
The light opposite me turned green with an arrow, and two cars lumbered slothfully through and across my path. I saw another who would not make the light. The car approaching was a small import, white with a brown door, and was approaching at nearly forty five miles per hour. He did not slow down when he lost the arrow, and I waited to accelerate until he was past me, despite my green light.