My driver's license has been suspended.
The chain of events leading up to this predicament began back in February, when I got pulled over for not having renewed my registration. The cop told me he was writing it up, but that nothing bad would happen as long as I got it taken care of immediately. I hauled ass to the emissions place, renewed online, paid the late fee, and got on with my life.
Apparently I was also supposed to inform the City of Tucson that I had done this. Oops. On top of that, the Motor Vehicle Division of Arizona (I realized) had never sent me my proof of registration, which I needed to get my license unsuspended.
Like so many people, I've become ridiculously dependent on my car. A decade ago I could get most of the places I needed to go on my bicycle. No more ... and time constraints have made it such that I don't even go to places in biking distance on my bike now. My bike requires repairs before it's even rideable.
Which sucks on days like today, when you're not allowed to drive and you need to go to the pharmacy.
Before I tried calling around to see if any friends could take me, it occurred to me that the pharmacy wasn't really that far. I Google-mapped it. 1.7 miles each way.
Fine. I would walk. But I was not happy about it. I had things I desperately needed to get done, and this was going to turn a quick-and-dirty errand into a rather long one.
I set out in the late afternoon. Just a few feet from my driveway, I thought, the song.
Oh yeah! There was a song I'd been working on for many weeks, or perhaps I should say not working on. After a few cool lines that made me happy, I was completely stuck.
In the early days of my songwriting, I had thought up most of my lyrics while on my bike. Walking worked just as well. Maybe I could scratch out a line or two, and the time suck wouldn't be a total waste.
I wrote six lines.
Creative juices still flowing, I wrote seven more after I got home.
You have to understand, this never happens. One or two new lines in the course of a day is a really good day for me. This is true even though I have set periods of time where I have to do something tedious (cooking) and can think about writing without having to procrastinate something else. Getting my body moving shook something loose somehow.
The funny thing? When I got home, I checked my mailbox. The MVD had sent my proof of registration. If I'd known it was going to arrive so fast, I probably would've waited for it, then risked the short drive with my new tag on the car. I'm so glad I didn't.
Guess I need to lose my license more often.