fun with coping mechanisms

This morning, I got a speeding ticket.

For going 61 mph in a 55 mph zone, while accelerating up a hill.

I asked the cop for a break, to which he replied, "We don't give breaks, because people have died on this street."

Which I understand, and respect, and I would never snark or be sarcastic about the dangers of driving recklessly. But I'm not quite sure that if I (or someone else) could have died going 61 mph, I, or someone else, would not have died going 55 mph.

It's just...if you've met me, or driven with me, I rarely speed. I've never received a speeding ticket before (probably because I don't speed. I'm the rare person who doesn't have to brake on the freeway when a cop comes up behind me, because I'm actually doing the speed limit.) I obey all traffic laws, I'm an incredibly safe driver, and when good drivers get tickets it makes them less supportive of obeying the laws in the first place, especially as I endure, on a daily basis, people tailgating me, cutting me off, and racing up and down that very same street at 80 mph, with no cops around.

I got home tonight, did two loads of dishes, scrubbed the oven and the kitchen floor, cleaned out the fridge, took out the recycling, and then re-organized the entire two cupboards of pots, pans, lids, and Tupperware. My coping mechanism is to clean, which I suppose is healthier than World Of Warcraft.

I feel better about my day. I'm still pissed about my ticket.