You didn’t ask me if I’ve been drinking

I got a citation today. For an awesome Infringement of the Laws of the Roads of Royal California. Or something. Bah. I turned right onto Wolfe from Homestead, on red, without stopping. I have no excuse; it’s a fair cop – I did indeed not stop. And I realised, as I was sitting there awaiting my little faded yellow slip of depressingness, reflecting on it, that the real message was that I had not noticed the police car right behind me only because I had, by necessity, been so focused on checking the intersection was clear. This comes as a result of having had a few closer-than-necessary calls there in recent weeks, which were truth be told also my fault solely. In fact, just the other day going through there I made the mental note that it’d get the best of me one day. I would have taken the bus if I’d known it’d be so soon, though. :)

So, now I get to wait ’til October or somesuch oddly distant date to find out what the consequences are. My bestest buddy Officer Friendly suggested I go with option C, the Driver Education Course. Though undoubtedly there will be compulsory fiscal consequences as well. Judging by what others have received for similar sorts of relatively inconsequential offences, I’d guess somewhere in the $40-$60 range. However, one must of course multiply by the Wade’s Bastard Fate factor, which brings the estimate up to around $170 or so, by my reckoning. We shall see.

In all seriousness though, it was more a moment of important sobering than upsetting or depressing or anything else. I have become complacent, largely because it’s usually the end of a long day where I’m typically mentally drained – physically as well, if I’ve been to the gym – and I tend to run on that autopilot that inexplicably thirsts to make it home at least seven seconds faster than… than… some, pointless, arbitrary measure. I dunno. I’m taking it as an important and, perhaps, timely warning.

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