Friday.I.Got.A.Speeding.Ticket.

52.In.A.40.

52 does not feel like speeding. Not at all. Well, maybe on a dark, winding, dirt road through a neighborhood of blind children, but not on a bright and busy 4 lane road that has direct interstate access. But I'm not bitter. I broke the law, I deserve to be punished. But $170 punished? That's not even the amount of my ticket, that's the fee for the class so that I don't get points on my license and in turn pay for the ticket for years to come through increased insurance rates. And FYI, I do NOT have $170 sitting around waiting to clean up my mistake.

Encouraged by something I heard in a sermon today, I feel the need to confess that I am a speeder. A habitual speeder. There you have it. Not by much, but for some reason doing the exact speed limit feels like torture. If it's a 35, I've got to do 40. A 55, maybe 60, maybe just 58. On interstate, I'm a fan of 75mph. I usually go no more than 5-7 mph over the limit. And I really didn't know it was 40. But Officer Not-S0-Chatty didn't even ask. Let me just say that I love officers of the law. My big brother is a deputy. My handsome hubby was a deputy. I know and love (or at least like) and always respect officers. But I will say, I'm not this guy's biggest fan. He wasn't rude, he did his job very professionally. If I thought he read my blog I'd butter him up a little more in hopes he'd post a ticket-reversal in my comment box. But as he's not reading, I'm not buttering. Give a girl a smile, maybe even a "52 isn't the worst I've seen today," something to help this born rule follower feel a little better about getting caught. I may speed but in the grand scheme of things, I'm about as law-abiding, rule-following as they come. Doesn't that count for something?

In other news (completely unrelated I might add): I am now charging a small fee for reading my blog. The next 100 readers will be charged a small fee of $1.70.