At some point in our lives, we all need to slow down. In some cases, it's age, over work or burnout. In my case, I was told to. By the police. Repeatedly.
To be fair, I wasn't keen on heeding their 'advice' so we bumped into each other fairly often. But it was not their grim demeanor or arsenal of hand guns and tasers that made me see the light. No, what finally convinced me that a lifestyle change might be in order was the daunting prospect of a car insurance payment that had ballooned to the size of what I was sure would match a small home mortgage payment.
I have, since my 'rehab' almost six years ago, become a mainstay of a group of drivers who travel just over the limit but never to exceed by more than 8 mph lest we trigger some sort of alarm. I have committed to the actual use of cruise control which heretofore had been the equivalent of self destruct button in the car - DO NOT PUSH! I have forfeited driving red coupes and grimaced as my five speed transmission begs to be toyed with on deserted roads. All done to keep me on the wagon as it were. What I haven't been able to shake in six slooooow years though is my speeder's guilt.
Traveling down any given road, the sight of a police vehicle by the road side triggers an involuntary response whereby I immediately slam on the brakes and then, panic stricken, look down only to discover I was actually already traveling at the speed limit. The down side to this sort of behaviour though is the three car pile up I cause on the road behind me. I'm aware of it, I'm working on it. But I still have a guilty conscience apparently. So consider this a friendly suggestion - don't tail gate in my vicinity.
