Everyday Life

I had just passed a semi and was entering into auto-mode when the car in front of me braked, turned on its blinker, and drove off onto the shoulder.

At first, I thought it was going to turn–on Highway 30, it’s normal for cars to pull off onto the shoulder prior to a turn, allowing those behind them to pass on their way to wherever they’re going.

But as I got closer, I realized that there was no road on which to turn off–and that the vehicle belonged to the Nebraska State Patrol.

Huh, I thought, wonder what he’s doing.

He pulled out behind me and turned on his lights.

It was my turn to pull off.

When he knocked on my window and asked for my driver’s license, registration, and insurance, I took forever to get my insurance. It’d been a long day in Grand Island and my eyes couldn’t focus on the date on the insurance card. I didn’t want to accidentally give the officer an expired insurance card.

But, at last, I determined that it was the current card. I handed it over, wondering if the officer would ever tell me why he’d pulled me over.

At last, he revealed: “I pulled you over for speeding. Speeding while passing is illegal in the state of Nebraska.”

He took my information back to his cruiser. I laid my head back on my headrest and wished for it to all be over.

Passing. I should have known. I always pass fast, eager to get back onto the right side of the road as quickly as possible. I should have known that would be illegal.

He came back at last, his clipboard in hand.

“I’m going to have to give you a ticket,” he said, “because you were going so fast.”

“You slowed down right after passing–I know it wasn’t your intent to speed. I took five miles off the speed I clocked you at–that’ll save you fifty dollars.”

He gave me all the details, had me sign his copy of the ticket, wished me a safe drive.

I put away my license, registration, and insurance card. I laid the ticket on the seat beside me. I started the car and drove off, already starting to tear up.

He had been the first non-institutionalized potentially-single man I’d met in months.

Will it ever get easier, being a single woman in a world with no prospects?

It has been seven years since I could play (due to my brother being an employee).

And before seven years ago, I went to McDonalds approximately once a year (on a church sponsored youth trip).

So now, for the first time in my life, I am playing MONOPOLY.

You know, the artery-clogging, pocket-emptying exercise in futility that allows McDonalds to rake in the big bucks every fall?

Yep, that Monopoly.

See?

I told you so.

So far, I have won several orders of medium fries, a breakfast sandwich, 20 Snapfish prints, and some MyCoke Rewards points (whatever those are.)

I’m still holding out for one of the biggies.

Anybody want to share? I’m looking for–

• Green: Pennsylvania Avenue (I’ll give you Luci if I win a Nissan Leaf)
• Yellow: Ventnor Avenue (I could spare you a bit of that $100,000–half after taxes?)
• Red: Kentucky Avenue (ditto the above, only this time for $50,000)
• Orange: Tennessee Avenue (Family vacation? Of course you’re family!)
• Pink: Virginia Avenue (Surely $200 at a Spa can get two…er…manicures?)
• Light Blue: Vermont Avenue ($100 isn’t much, but I’ll still share)
• Brown: Mediterranean Avenue ($50 is even less, but even that can buy us each a coupla dozen large drinks!)
• Railroad: Short Line (Don’t know what I’d want with an EA Sports trip, but I’d be willing to sell and share the proceeds?)

Of course, if you were really smart and had any of the above, you’d run over to Walmart and buy $1 medium drinks until you had the rest. What I’ve got is a dime a dozen.

So why am I playing again?

Oh yes.

Because I can.

***Disclaimer: Professional dietitian on closed commute. Please do not attempt.***

A long day in Grand Island done, I pointed my car towards home, eager to get back to Columbus.

But as soon as I turned east, I saw a gorgeous almost-full-penny moon.

Do you know what I’m talking about? A moon that glows with coppery tones, where you can almost see Abraham Lincoln’s profile in its enormous glistening glory?

My eyes twitched to the camera bag sitting beside me, my hands thrummed the steering wheel restlessly.

I wanted a picture of this–except the construction on the road between Grand Island and Central City left me with no place to turn off.

I determined to take a detour through Central City. I’d find a country road; stop and take some pictures before rejoining Highway 30 a little further along.

What I didn’t count on was the difficulty of finding country road turn-offs after dark.

I crossed the Platte River and knew I needed to turn east again soon (since I was traveling south and my destination was northeast). Finding a little highway, I turned off on it.

Unfortunately, this little highway had no shoulders for pulling over to take pictures–so I kept driving, sure I’d find a north-leading road soon.

The penny moon rose and became a dime, not anywhere near as enthralling.

I drove further, wondering at my folly–chasing the moon.

My usual route looks like this:

Instead, last evening’s trip looked more like this:

Dozens of extra miles, at least a half hour extra drive time.

No pictures to show for it.

An evening chasing the moon.