On July 1st I approached my car after class to find a bright orange parking ticked on the windshield. "What the fuck," I said to myself, as I was parked quite legally. It turns out that the ticket was for being retarded, since I'd failed to put the "June 2009" registration stickers (that had been in my purse for half a month) on my plates. The ticket was for $100 USD. After doing that enraged wailing where you're too pissed to cry the whole way home, I frantically researched ways to fight it, and found out the fine might be reduced if I bring proof of registration to the City Attorney's office. So I went downtown, set off the metal detectors with my belt ("It's my first time here," I simpered to the lady cop. "Good," she replied.), and found my way to the fourth floor where I sat politely among loud meth-head women until the attorney (?) called me in. The date on the ticket was September 1st, 2004 (in my rage I had not noticed this). After I assured him I had not been sitting on the ticket for almost four years, he told me it would be dropped, and gave me a lecture on putting the damn stickers on your plates on time (I had a good "story" about how my parents in Beatrice own the car and hadn't given the stickers to me on time).
I will forever wonder if the cop/parking enforcement officer actually made a horrendous mistake on the date, or if they did it in purpose to cut me a break. THANK YOU KIND PETTY LAW ENFORCER.
I have one week left in my "Philosophy of Logic" class, which has beat my mental ass raw. I've been doing pretty average but I think it will be good enough. It's been extremely helpful to have only had this class for five weeks, as it's much easier to apply the "just keep fucking trying" mantra that tends to die off about halfway through a regular semester.
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