Let me just start out by saying Mondays are a bitch. It’s always harder to wake up on a Monday because you always ruin your sleep schedule over the weekend even if you swear ahead of time that you’re not going to. So like every other Monday morning, I hit snooze until I absolutely HAD to get up. Just enough time to brush teeth, throw clothes on, feed cats, leave. Only this morning, once I got to the “feeding cat” part, I noticed there was no Taco. Mr. “HEYHEYHEYLOOKITME” always underfoot. This is unheard of. I mean, he’s spent ALL NIGHT without food! He’s usually my alarm clock. So, instead of sticking with my really tight time schedule, I went hunting for him. I even woke up the boyfriend (sorry honey) who didn’t have to be at work until 9. Looked in all the closets and hiding spaces. He finally emerged from INSIDE THE COUCH after some vigorous treat shaking. I knew he hadn’t gotten out, but for him to miss feeding, I have images of him sick somewhere and hiding. No. He was in the damn couch. IN IT.
Some may call my driving style aggressive, I like to call it defensive and speedy. I don’t SPEED-speed, but I hate driving so I want to get it over with as quickly as possible. This means I don’t want to be stuck behind some douche doing 35 in a 45. Which is where I found myself this morning, already running late because Taco was in the effing couch. So I tailgated a little, had an opening to get over, and I did. Annnnddddd that’s when I got pulled over.
Unmarked sheriff, yay. And he yelled at me. Like, YELLED. I didn’t even need to make myself cry, because it happened naturally. And he barked questions like “Do you even have insurance” and “Are you driving on a suspended license” (apparently my driving is bad enough that my license should be suspended? Come on. I drive a Volvo. I at least give the appearance of being responsible) — and this was all why I was frantically trying to find my registration in the mess of doom that is my glove box.
Then he surprised me by coming back and asking me to give him a good reason he shouldn’t give me a ticket for (I’m paraphrasing here) being the worst driver and human being in the world (I’m not sure what he said exactly, but his tone left that impression) and I stammered out something about being late because my cat was missing and it freaked me out and ended with “It’s Monday.” Either he’s a softy for kitties or he understands the painfulness of Mondays, because he was much nicer as he told me he was just giving me a warning and I should get to work safely and to drive better. I’m glad I didn’t point out that driving 10 miles under the speed limit is equally unsafe. Or tell him that my focus sucked because I was wearing my glasses instead of contacts which really messes up my peripheral vision.
That’s when I decided that I was going to appreciate my day from then on because it could only go up from there, and you know what? That worked. I had (so far) a very uneventful and productive Monday. So thanks, sir, although you made me feel like crap, you ultimately made my day better. And I should probably remember not to drive like SO much of an asshole. People still shouldn’t be driving 35 in a 45. Don’t you have somewhere to be?
The boyfriend texted me later to tell me that he discovered that it was a frog that was under the couch. It’s still somewhere in here because when he went to go get it, it jumped back under. So yeah. Not only is Taco perfectly fine, he wasn’t even hiding. He was just going after live food rather than his normal morning boring food.
Never a dull moment!