A couple weeks ago, I was babysitting Tim's (much faster) car while he was out of town. During that week, I learned something about myself: I should not be allowed to drive fast cars. At least, not anywhere besides the autobahn. As I was cruising down the highway with no one in front of me, I actually caught myself giggling.
And it's not just in the car... before getting knocked up, it was against my religion to walk for exercise. My mom always walks around her neighborhood with the "Walking Ladies" in the morning to stay in shape, but whenever I tried to walk for my workout, I ended up running instead. Why walk for 40 minutes when you can cover the same mileage in 20 by stepping up the pace? You get home faster, and let's face it, you look freakin hot! At least, in your own head. Don't ever watch yourself run in those mirrors at the gym. It's not just your spunky ponytail that bounces, you know.
So why are we in such a hurry? Why do higher speeds result in wider grins? Is this true for everyone? It must not be, as evidenced by my archenemy, Slow Guy in the left lane... and the Walking Ladies.
(Art from politecards.com)