A Pathetic Fallacy

"Each of us makes his own weather, determines the color of the skies in the emotional universe which he inhabits."

Bishop Fulton J. Sheen

The other day, my scale inexplicably got stuck weighing me in kilos instead of American. Today, I went to fill up my gas tank. When I top off the tank, I re-set the trip odometer because my gas gauge got stuck on half this one time and I am just the teensiest bit OCD. So my redundancy gas gauge is my trip odo.

Funny story. The button next to my gas gauge it turns out - I didn't know this about my ten-year-old car - changes the speedometer from miles per hour to millimeters or something unAmerican.

Pulling out from the gas station I waited for the light to turn green. I fumbled to reset the trip odo. I noticed I was behind a police car at the light.

The light turns green. I see the 40 mph sign between me and the cop. I glance at my speedometer. I'm going 58!! I doesn't seem like it, but no way am I going to pass the cop.

Me:  Universe? Seriously?

WISIMH:  Why are the gods conspiring to mess with me by doing this? I've been out all morning. I got my new hearing aids, I picked up my new glasses, I stopped for a real latte and a bagel, I went to the grocery store. I even earned some good karma by being kind to a stranger. Gas station was my last stop and I want to get the hell home and take a nap. And this is the reward I get?

Me:  Thank you for turning into that parking lot, Mr. Policeman. Now, let me slide by here to the right of Nana who is doing a brisk walking pace in the left lane with her right blinker on.

While waiting behind the cop at the light, I noticed on the back of his slick SUV was a little chrome badge that said "Police Interceptor" which is apparently a model of the fleet package that includes the grill between the back seat and the front seat and presumably the speed to catch me. I want that badge for my 2005 Prius that hasn't been washed since the drought began.

 WISIMH:  I wonder if your fancy Police Interceptor could catch me now Pig. I'm going over 100!! And there's a dinosaur on my dashboard!

And I hope I don't drift into the next lane as I wildly flail at the trip odo buttons and glance over. WTFF? There's another button marked mph/kl.  Why is the metric system fucking with me? I'm already an anorexically thin 79 kilos, and now I'm a mad speed demon. Angela Merkel is out to kill us all.

I remember watching Bishop Sheen on black and white TV when I was a kid. Blissfully, what I don't remember was a single word he said. But the google says he also said hearing nuns’ confessions is like being stoned to death with popcorn. So, he had that going for him.