From now on

Allegedly, I drove through a few yellow lights as they were turning red. Don't jump to conclusions, I'm not a complete scofflaw. I would never intentionally speed through a red light. But yellow lights are a gamble and sometimes you lose.

The obvious consequence of losing is the associated fines. But is the extra aggravation, albeit free, necessary? I needed the citation numbers in order to pay the fines. I didn't have the citations, so I called for assistance and reached "Phyllis", an amalgamation of a dismissive government employee, and a prim Sunday school teacher, all judgment and dry manners.

The last thing I needed was Phyllys' lecture. Numerous notices were sent out regarding the violations. So what? I didn't have them. Moreover, if I cared about it eighteen months ago, I wouldn't have waited until today to call. Quite honestly, I still didn't care but I was compelled to pay in order to renew my tags.

I wanted to give Phyl a little lecture of my own. It would go something like this:

"Look here Phyl, ExX-CUSE me if I don't come to a screeching halt on yellow. Sorry if I tried to shave a few minutes off of my two hour commute by trying to make a yellow light or two. I ain't having a good week, month, or to be honest, a good freaking year. So wrap up the soliloquy, and give me the damn citation numbers." ( I hope my use of a familiar diminutive, and bad grammar indicates that I mean business).

I think I know how to manage my life (just trust me on this point) and regardless of my circumstances, paying extortionate fines is NEVER going to be a priority. On the bright side, I learned an important driving lesson. I am a financially conscientious woman, so no more casually driving through yellow lights. From now on, I will be driving through yellow lights much faster.

Gone

The problem with fireworks is that eventually they fizzle and fade. Washington is a small city, so it isn't surprising to run into the same strangers, and bump into the occasional tangential friends. I saw a stranger last night that used to be quite dear to me. It was a decade ago, pre-law school, pre-motherhood, pre-everything that's important to me now. I adored him. Last night there were no fireworks, which is good because he's now a married man and a father, and not the boy who had scratched my heart. It was supposed to be a minor wound, but it had taken years to heal. Maybe because I kept picking at the scab, finding excuses to make it bleed.

Though our embrace had been warm and genuine, the experience had been anti-climatic. I no longer thought of him, but for some reason I had thought of him recently. Randomly, I had a vision of a night, years ago, that I spent in his company. As usual, his behaviour had frustrated and confused me. Back then, he had been possessive yet unavailable. He owned me, enjoyed the power, but offered no reciprocity.

Last night, things were different. He no longer had a claim on me. He teased me about the absence of a wedding ring on my finger: "Come on man, what you waiting on?"

Eight years ago, he would not have asked me this question because we both knew that the answer would have been : "Come on man, I'm waiting on you."

We parted with a hug and the contact left me empty. Don't get me wrong, I am happy for him. More importantly, I am happy that there was no ambiguity. We no longer have a conflict as I could no longer offer adoration. Gone was the tension that had created the magical tendrils of fireworks.

I sipped my drink and thought about the burden of his former rejection and the inexplicable heaviness of it's absence. His behavior had been appropriate and respectful, but it bothered me that he still seemed physically attracted to me. Why had that aspect endured, while the others had faded?

Then I met a likable stranger who offered to buy me ice cream. I accepted. Admittedly, I am easily distracted. Furthermore, crushes come and go but I will always love ice cream.