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Monday mornings.

Ok, so, Monday mornings are often are the crappiest of mornings, but this one just really takes the cake. I mean, literally, if I had cake and was about to take a big bite, this morning would have ripped it out of my hand, taken a huge bite and washed it down with a cold glass of milk right in my face.
I woke up late with a raging headache (this is following a terrible night's sleep), got in the shower which had NO pressure and wouldn't get super hot - I have no clue why, other than the fact that Monday mornings are spiteful and mean. Got out and got dressed, drank a little coffee then didn't have time to dry my hair since I was running late. Threw on my shoes and grabbed a campbell's soup at hand and an apple and jumped in the car. I realized then that I left my cell phone and planner in the house. Had to go back to get them. Got back in the car and realized that something in there smells funny - I still have NOT checked that one out. Backed down the driveway and pulled out onto the road looking at the clock which said I had 4 minutes to get to work. No big deal, it only takes 5 at the most. Look back up from the clock and see a cop - hidden around a corner in front of someone's house in a parking spot. It looked like maybe he lived there and that the car was empty, but just to be safe I slowed down to the speed limit. He must have been clocking people sitting backwards because I was NOT over the limit by the time I was anywhere close to him, but sure enough as I passed him I saw the lights come on. Out gets the youngest looking cop I have ever seen. He asks for my license, registration and proof of insurance. He asks me why I was going so fast, and I let him know I only have 4 minutes until I have to be at work. I then hand him my license and proof of insurance no problem. Registration? What does that even really look like? I don't think I have ever really given that to a cop when they have pulled me over. Isn't it the same as the tag on the license plate? Anyway, I tell him I don't think I have it. He asks if the car is in my name, I say yes. He goes back to his car for - no lie, 13 minutes. What in the world takes that long?! So, I'm sitting there debating whether or not to put the radio on since I don't want him to come back and be mad that I've been jamming to Michael Buble while he's been writing me a ticket. He comes back to the window and lets me know he clocked me going, get this, 29 in a 25. I'm thinking "ok, so a warning...." NOPE. He goes on to say that he has a citation for me, and that the court date is in a couple of weeks. ARE YOU KIDDING?! 4 miles per hour over?! Really?! At least get me heading to Knoxville going 20 or more over!! Does he know I work at a non-profit?!? On the brighter side, my boss said he should not have given me a ticket and she would let me out of work for a morning to go to court for that. So, I guess it's off to court for me.

Comments

Anne said…
Sorry you had such a craptacular morning BUT I am glad you finally posted..I was beginning to worry about you. You've been MIA from my life!!

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