I am not good at braving the morning hours, and today was an unfortunate example. I woke up at 7:20, which was already a good hour after I should have awakened, and stationed myself on the couch with my Bible and journal. My feeble prayers kept getting tangled with the dream I had recently been having about losing a little boy I was babysitting wearing a red shirt, and the episode of Weeds I watched last night. I kept asking nonsensical questions of God like, “What is your will for my colon?” (I am doing a cleanse that isn’t really working). I fell asleep about five times before I totally gave up and crawled back into bed. I just didn’t have the will to remain conscious. I snuggled up to my husband and slept intermittently for another half hour, waking up feeling guilty and crashing again.
Finally I lugged my sorry self to the shower, did half my morning colon cleanse routine, ate the crumbs from the bottom of the shredded wheat bag, and landed my booty in the driver’s seat of my exceptionally clean station wagon. I headed off down the highway planning to begin applying my makeup in the rearview mirror when I saw flashing blue and red lights appear behind me. I panicked, looked at my speedometer and clearly was not speeding, but the cop kept hovering behind me to my left like an annoying insect, and ohhhh, what to do, what to do, what to do? if I just kept driving, things might get really awkward if he thought I was trying to lead him on a high-speed chase (although I was only going 45) so I abruptly slammed on the brakes and pulled over onto the shoulder. At the same time, a white, much older and more battered station wagon was pulling over right in front of me. I sat there appalled. The police car scooted in right behind me and as I stared at him uncomprehendingly in the rearview mirror, he whipped out his loudspeaker and yelled, “What do you think you’re doing? I don’t want you!” What is more embarrassing, getting pulled over by a cop or thinking you’re getting pulled over but you’re really not? And then he yelled at me!
Well, I didn’t waste any time–I gunned my engine and left the unfortunate white car in my dust. Of course, the police car was just trying to get around me so he could pull over the other car, and he must have thought I was a total idiot. But who can blame me? Flashing lights are so unnerving that I automatically snap into guilty-criminal mode and surrender myself, thinking I must have done something to deserve punishment.
Just another reason why mornings are hazardous, and why I should not be allowed on the roads before noon. Can we all agree on this simple concept?
