Getting a Few Things Right

Inspirational song: Moon River (v. Andrea Bocceli)

I think I stumbled through this day, only getting things right by accident. It was the "blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut" theory of survival. Maybe it was that feeling of everything being off because of daylight savings time. I woke too early, to too much light in the bedroom. It meant that I was up and able to knock out the rest of my homework for tonight before breakfast, which I suppose was a good thing. Thanks to a little prodding from the Mister, I took advantage of all that spare time to catch up on a few things that needed doing. Like getting out of the house at all.

Three years ago, when waiting to vote in the presidential election, I stood in line for five minutes shy of three hours. I don't know whether it was because the local election boards hadn't taken into account population growth in our neighborhood, or was it because our town was super involved in politics, but none of us in that long line seemed inclined to leave it before we voted. We were stubborn, I suppose. Last year they moved our polling place, and it was a lot faster, but still a process to get in and out when the mah jongg master and I went together to vote. Here I am in my new city, getting to vote for a new mayor and one ballot issue (about whether to refund some of the excess dough collected on pot taxes or use it to pad out the state budget). My ballot was mailed to me weeks ago. Yesterday I finally Googled the candidates and their positions, and figured out who to vote for. And today all I had to do was walk in the main municipal building, show the lady that my ballot envelope was signed, and then I dropped it in the box and collected my sticker. No line, no delays, no hassles. You know, this county has a bad reputation for being all up in residents' business, with a lot of nanny-state type ordinances. But in this case, they really had their stuff figured out. It couldn't have been easier for me.

Driving downtown, we'd heard a siren, and seen a fire engine zip down an adjoining street. Didn't think much about it. Then we turned in the construction zone on Main, and drove past where the fire engine was parked. We stopped at the nearest stoplight, and the smell of gas (well, the rotten egg smell they artificially add to it) was overpowering. Our car windows were open, and at about the same time, we realized that the hissing sound we heard was the broken gas line underneath the excavator directly next to us. We were stopped RIGHT NEXT TO A PUNCTURED GAS LINE. And the street was still open. Traffic was not diverted. What the hell? So five minutes after I was proud of my city for their efficiency, I was horrified by their lack of urgency. I couldn't wait for that light to change so we could drive away. Longest thirty seconds of my life.