Speed limits are designed to be helpful. Their intent is to keep traffic moving at about the same speed in order to minimize accidents, and the injuries and casualties those can cause. Some roads are trickier to drive on, so a lower speed limit helps drivers to be able to safely navigate the terrain. Other times, driving too slowly can be hazardous, so there may be a minimum speed limit as well as a maximum one. (Much thanks to Wikipedia, that lovely site that helps fill in information when it doesn’t have to be overly precise. People who say to never use it are, in my opinion, silly.)
Yet most of the time I find speed limits to be quite a nuisance. My speedometer usually flirts with 5 to 7 miles above the posted speed. “They’re more like guidelines,” my father has been known to say. (In jest, of course. I think.) Much of the time I have no good reason to speed. One day I decided that for the rest of my drive home I was going to drive strictly the speed limit, seeing as I was in no rush.
I didn’t make it.
Why? I have no idea. Something in me seems to constantly whisper, “Rush rush, gotta get home. Hurry hurry, gotta make it to Meijer.” Even if I have no plans, so set schedule, the speed limit just seems like a bother. Fortunately I’ve never gotten a ticket, but I’m sure if i did the speed limit would suddenly become a lot more real to me. (Not that you should go tell your police officer friends to roam the streets looking for me–I’d like to keep my record ticket-free, thanks.) Since I haven’t gotten a ticket, the speed limit seems easily ignorable.
Maybe the reason is that I have a nearly constant feeling of not having enough time. School starts in just a few weeks, and it seems like with it will come the disappearance of any sort of relaxation time. That’s mostly my fault, of course, for not taking the time, but still, there’s always some sort of homework hanging over my head that I could be working on.
Perhaps I should learn to appreciate speed limits more, and not just to save me from getting a ticket. Think of the extra time I’d have in my car to ponder life and its complexities if I slowed down those couple miles an hour. I quite enjoy my drive time, so why do I rush to get it over with? Silly me. Maybe there are more things that seem like nuisances that I should pay more attention to…scratch that, I’m sure there’s lots. Eyes open, I suppose.
Til next time…