Back In The Seattle Taxi Saddle: What Am I Doing Here?

The obvious answer to my question is to make money, but more, after four days back in the cab---losing my temper, my humor, my civility---I ask myself, what am I truly doing driving this cab?  Sunday I was pushed by some non-thinking bozo who just couldn't understand that blocking our Amtrak cab stand was a bad idea.  Later Sunday, I was involuntarily involved in some deranged quiz contest---all the two drunks knew was that their Air B&B apartment was located somewhere in West Seattle---putting all the fragments of their addled thoughts together, and finally $37.00 dollars later, getting them to their address on Pigeon Hill but no tip after this near miracle, after completely saving their buttock from their own inebriated ignorance.

Yes taxi and only taxi, nothing new and nothing amusing, only cars and more cars clogging the now moist roadways.  Yes, it is called "making a living" but as far as I can tell, only nearing me closer to "the death I shall never part."

As to taxi issues, nothing is yet resolved concerning insurance requirements or what the City of Seattle will do to ensure we have a level playing field of competition with Uber and Lyft, appearing Seattle is more concerned about how much TNC (ride-share) operators are making as opposed to taxi driver well-being.  In the 1960s, the American writer Anne Sexton published a very remarkable poetry volume, "To Bedlam and Half-way Back."  As for all of us taxi asylum dwellers, we remain in the padded cell of bureaucratic imbecility.  Where, I ask, where is the key releasing us from all this unrelenting pain?