The September nights have faded, but the speeding ticket that was handed to me on that horrible Monday still lingers. It is amazing how much of my life has been determined by a stupid piece of paper.
On the right path?
With my foot always on the pedal, I missed many turns in life and continued to take the fast route to the finish line. I did not know it at the time, but life is not about who finishes first or who gets there last, it is about all the experiences in between.
Had I worn out the pedal?
I am not sure when, why or how. One day I looked down and realized that my foot was no longer flooring the pedal. Surprised by this strange turn in events, I examined the pedal. Rather than looking inwardly and trying to discover why I had changed, I decided that it had to be the pedal.
I really never gave myself any credit. A pedal is merely a tool. I had not worn out the pedal … I was wearing out ME.
Am I getting old? Maybe.
The fast-paced party girl lifestyle just does not appeal to me anymore. My idea of fun consists of watching “Northern Exposure” reruns on a Saturday night. My eyelids get heavy well before midnight, and I am up at the crack of dawn. I get up before my mom!
Where did all my enthusiasm go? I feel like a lemon sucked of all its juice. My 50 hour work weeks have receded to the bare minimum. I actually drive the speed limit in the right lane. My once incredibly strong opinions are losing their edge. My passion for politics has sunk so low that I am not even sure I will vote in this next presidential election.
I really miss the fast lane!
If only I could learn to drive in the fast lane and not get caught …