I'm a bit of a leadfoot. I blame this all on my children. They had places to be like school, sports, youth group, drama, etc. You get the picture. We were always in a hurry. So I picked up a bad habit. Speeding. A lot. I am probably understating here. I have scared people.
You know you have a problem when these are the kinds of things you hear from the backseat:
- “Miss Elena can get anywhere in California in ½ hour.
- “You just passed Mrs. So&So and she looked like she was standing still.”
- “Mrs. Dillon just Tokyo Drift into the parking lot. We’ll make it.”
- “Hold On!”
- “I don’t want to die!” (This one was from a rather large football player while he was holding on to the ceiling and screaming. He wasn’t joking.)
So I’ve been pretty bad. In my defense it started when I was driving my daughter, who was a competitive cheerleader at the time, anywhere from 120 to 180 miles a day. That didn’t even count going out of town for competitions on the weekends. You get tired of driving and you just want to get there. Not that it's any excuse.
When I got a ticket last year someone asked me “Were you speeding?” I just laughed and replied “It doesn’t matter. I’ve deserved a speeding ticket everyday for the last 10 years. I just signed it.”
So now that my kids finally drive themselves you would think I would have slowed down. Nope. I really hadn’t, until I started taking my writing seriously. I have noticed in the past few months that now while I drive I am usually contemplating plot, characters or some scene that I am stuck on while classical music plays serenely on the radio. Every time I look down I am doing the speed limit or lower. What? How is that possible?
I'm telling you it’s the writing. I'm in no hurry to get anywhere and I have a lot to contemplate. The car is a great place for that. So I’ve slowed down. It’s probably for the best. Although sometimes I still feel the need for speed…