I fought the law, and the law won....

For me, the last two weeks before the start of school area always the most stressful. I always thought it's I realize mid-August that summer is almost over and I try to suck the last remaining drops from sunshine and summertime. Reading the blogs of teachers, such as Camile from Classroom Confessions, I realized that this a universal phenomenon.

The two weeks before school started pretty well, I felt. I went away to Mohegan Sun for a conference, and then went to visit a few teacher friends. I thought I had escaped the "two-week tease."

Not.

I was driving home from the Creative Writing group for teens that I run every Thursday. The topic, however morbid, was Obituaries. That should have been a clue. I take the "short cut" through town, and pass a cop. Instinctively, I look at my speedometer-- 30. Phew, the speed limit was 35 in that part of town-- or so I thought. This section of road is funny- the speed limit changes four times within half a mile-- I wish I was joking. I had just hit the section with the 35 speed limit when I noticed blue lights in my rearview. I pulled over, in front of the speed limit sign announcing you could now go 45 (toldja I wasn't kidding).

The cop announces that I was going 40 in a 25--the speed limit, apparently, where he clocked me. There was no way that I was going 40 there. It's less than a football field from a stop light where I had to come to a complete stop. NO WAY could I have accelerated to 40 going by him-- there are train tracks right there, I would have bounced around a lot.

Anyway, I said that I thought the speed limit was 35, and took my ticket. My father's company services to public safety departments-- I wasn't pissing off a customer, and I realized quite early never to fight with a cop on duty.

The damages: $100 dollars for the overage PLUS a $50 surcharge fee.

I plan on fighting it. I SWEAR there are no signs announcing the speed limit from where he clocked me till the one where in announces that it's now 35. I plan on getting a map of the town highlight my route, then labeling the speed limit signs. Judges like visuals, right?

I slink off to my apartment which is 100 yards from where I got stopped, and put on Rescue Me to comfort me. Denis Leary (and his character) are such assholes, it can only make me feel better about myself. I put laundry in during commercial breaks.

About 11, I go to bed--set on sleeping a full night in my bed, which I haven't been able to do while sleeping alone. I fall asleep immediately, only to be awoken by a loud, persistent banging on my apartment door. I look through the peephole to see a rather burly man standing there, insisting he's maintenance. I let him in-- rather stupid, in retrospect. I live alone, and the guy easily outweighed me. I should have called the apartment community for confirmation, asked for a badge, or something.

Turns out, my washing machine hose burst, leaking water into the apartment below. He advised me not to use my machine at all, and said he'd return tomorrow to fix it. I try to go back to sleep, give up at about 3 am, and spend the rest of the night on the couch.

Bad things always come in threes, and I'm waiting for the next axe to fall.