metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That's the plan I found an old �to do� list this morning. It was about 6 months old. The depressing part is that every item on it is something I have to do this weekend. Old chores never die, they don�t even fade away, they endure and go on ad infinitum: Clean out cat box, wash clothes, color hair, mop kitchen, water plants, make granola, clean bathroom. *sigh* My bogus ticket yesterday for not signaling before I changed land is so � bogus. I am still pissed about it, although not as much as yesterday. The rebel in me wants to go out and change lanes willy nilly without signaling shit about it. But, I�d probably get another $75 ticket. People who say, �Oh, they let me off with just a warning� or �I talked them out of giving me a ticket� depress me. I want to be like that. I want that charm or � whatever it is to be able to talk them out of giving me a ticket. I have never had that. I sit obediently while they cite me, I sign the ticket and almost thank them for their time, while they solemnly tell me I could have caused a major traffic accident and put countless lives in jeopardy because I didn�t signal before I changed lanes. What do those people say to the police to stop them from writing a ticket? What is it about them that allows them that liberty? That � what? I don�t know what it is, but I want it. You can bet money if I am pulled over by a dirty copper I am going to get a ticket. It is a given. I don�t even entertain the possibility that I will only get a warning. I know from experience there will be no warning. Is it the way I look? Is it the way I talk? Is it my car? Is it my fingernail polish color of the moment? Is it the uncolored roots of my hair? WHAT IS IT? So. I want that ability, but I doubt I will ever have it. Maybe those people are lying and they do get a ticket and they just don�t tell anybody and they pay it silently, quietly, without anyone knowing and then they tell stories of how they talked the cop out of giving them the ticket or they say they just got a warning when in reality they got a big assed old ticket. I like to think this is the case. It�s comforting to me. I feel very singled out and put upon. Bastards! Ok. I�m better now. I�ll pay their fucking $75 and tell them to have a nice day, mutherfucker. Yes. That is what I will do. Then after the mugshot and the fingerprinting, I�ll have tea with my new roommate Bertha. She will watch out for me and I will be her little bitch. I won�t have to go to work anymore and I can sit on my cot and read all day long. I don�t have to pay my ticket until December 18, so if there are no more entries after that date, you will know I called them all mutherfuckers and they threw me in jail for violating the calling them all mutherfuckers ordinance and threw away the key and sniggered at me through the bars. They are such bastards. I hate them. I made brownies last night for the bake sale. It was very hard not to eat them. I also made pie crust for the pumpkin pies I will make tonight when I make the two coffeecakes after I go to the church and help set up the tables, etc. It will be a full but fun weekend. I really do enjoy having lots to do. I feel really productive and my energy level pumps up. It feels good. It is also a little overwhelming when I think about all the little �to do�s�, but then I remind myself that a festival in Cave Spring, GA is not the same as a festival in LA, then I know I can handle it and ease into it and just enjoy the doing of the thing. At least that�s the plan. 9:10 a.m. - 2003-11-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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