I’m in traffic on Rt. 3 Northbound heading to Boston. When I finish writing, I’m at Mass Ave. & Harrison Ave. taking a breath…feeling pretty smart. (Insert crazy laugh)…

I’ve got a job opportunity and a App development idea I’d like someone to prototype. It doesn’t suck, I swear. Stay with me.
I just finished a two-day-dig-my-eyeballs out “Design Thinking Boot Camp”. Good stuff. So I’m applying it.
First, I fell in love with the problem: I’m in “developing blood clots” traffic alone in my  car, have to pay $42 to park…at my fucking job…and I can’t even estimate what time I might arrive at the office this morning-or home for that matter.)
Then I remembered to ideate! Fucking stupid word, right? Don’t try to make “idea” a verb, it’s perfectly happy as a noun. Anyway, my solutions mostly sucked, and weren’t feasible…

Tell the SVP commuting would be too stressful on my morning, and to meet me at the beach.

Hovercraft.

Cry.

Quit and eat cat food.
You get the point. Not feasible. But this idea may be testable…
It’s for a collaborative App where the end users are both working and stay at home moms.

Here are the end-users more perfectly described…the “Shit-Show-Working-Moms.” Not you ass holes who can’t find your check for the nanny and worry about when the X series SUV goes in for winter tires. I’m talking about the moms who cry after dropping F bombs on slow moving  6th graders and then cry when they realize they have to stop for gas and be late or be on schedule and maybe end up waiting for AAA in the breakdown lane.

The other end users are the “Stay-At-Homies” (a.k.a. “Front Row Moms” on some days. This is what I call them, in an angry voice, on select days. The days I fall into the school production late with one broken shoe, no charge on my phone to take one fucking picture that proves I was there, and stand in the back of the room hoping my kid sees that I showed up. By the way, can one of those Lululemon-and-a-tunic uniform wearing bitches get her perfect little ass up and offer the haggard slob moms like me a fucking seat, and high five me for remembering the thing was today as she scoots over to her pink-cheeked-cherub? Bitch.)
Anyway, here’s the idea that needs to be tested and prototyped…
A “Stay-At-Homie” could sign up on an Uber-like app to be paid to ride in the HOV lane. “Shit-Show Working-Mom” pays her less than said parking fee to listen to Eminem’s Lose Yourself in the HOV lane, and helps her get to work on time. Sure, there’d be fewer pet-sitting and house-cleaning posts on the “everything local” pages of Facebook. And, there’s some loose-end details to work out, mainly what do I do with her when I get to the city. But I’m counting on someone smarter and less aggravated than me to focus on the details.
So- I’d pay for that. For real.
Now, Insert a slew of “we work just as hard”, “don’t mom bash”, and “respect my choices” comments below, but please know i already agree with you, I love both sides some days, and I hate bitches on other days-both sides-it ain’t personal.
xo