It doesn’t mean I have road rage.  I just like to drive fast.  I do.  It doesn’t matter if I’m early, late, on time.  Ok, I do drive fast because  I’m usually late.  Aside from that, I like to drive fast.  Maybe not 110 mph, just faster than the traffic in front of me.

What’s that officer?  Do I know how fast I was going?  No, I usually don’t pay attention to my speed, I just pay attention to the drivers in front of me.  Apparently that doesn’t pass for a justified reason to go over the speed limit.  Darn it.

I’ve always wondered what my problem was.  Maybe it’s all that driving on 635 in Dallas.  I mean that will make anyone want to pull their hair out.  Or maybe it’s because I’m notoriously running late.  I sometimes don’t calculate time correctly.  You would think that if I’m going to the mall, I would account for the drive time PLUS the time inside the mall.  Not so.  Time inside the mall is like being on an episode of Lost.  There must have been some sort of electromagnetic something or other that caused time to jump 2 hours! So the round trip to the mall that I told my husband would only be an hour is now 3 hours.  Oops.  So I drive fast to get home fast.  As if that will turn back time.  Right.

I discovered the real reason that I drive fast on a recent trip to San Antonio.  Because we weren’t beginning a 5 hour drive at 7 at night, we thought it would be nice to take the “back roads”.  Enjoy the scenic small towns.  Take our time.  This was actually a great plan, minus the dog barking the last  30 minutes of the trip.  As we’re driving, the thought hit me.  It’s so nice to drive down some of these country roads.  There is not a single soul in sight.  Or in my case, not a single car on the road in front of me.  And if one of the locals happens to be on the road, it’s super easy to pass them.  No weaving in and out of 5 lanes of traffic.  This was how I learned to drive.  I learned to drive in the middle of nowhere where the only traffic you were in was the 5 o’clock dinner rush to Sanderson’s BBQ.

Hmmm…maybe I should try this explanation next time I get pulled over.  Sorry, it’s because I grew up in a small town where hardly anyone was on the road.  So I never had to work so hard to be alone on the road.  What’s that?  You’re still giving me a ticket?  Oh.  Ok.