First World problem.

As of Wednesday, it became illegal to text while driving in Wisconsin. It's a law I completely understand. I do. Can't say I won't break the law -- once or twice -- or seventy-nine-hundred times -- just kidding, mom -- and police -- however, I get it. When you text and drive, and cause an accident, that accident isn't just going to hurt you, but it's potentially going to hurt someone else. And that's not cool. Same with drinking and driving. I don't care what happens to you when you drive drunk, but when you start hurting and killing other people, then you suck. Hard. In fact, now that I'm rambling, let's talk about the seat belt law. I mean, I get why people need to wear them, but why a law? I figure if someone doesn't wear their seat belt, and they get in an accident, their bad. They know the risk they're putting themselves in by not wearing a seat belt. And they're hurting no one but themselves. So, really, the texting and drinking while driving laws seem to make more sense. But I digress. Back to the law at hand.

This law's tough for me. Obviously. And unfortunately, I'll admit. BUT. But! I've been abiding by it since Wednesday, and although that seems obvious and law-abiding, I'm really rather proud of myself. I've become a master of the tweet-and-drive. Just ask Twitter. They know everything about every road trip I take. But just to prove something (to myself), I've been abiding by this law. It's hard. You're starting to speak to a generation of people who came of age in a technology-drenched society. Hell, we can all probably send a shorthand text message to our friends, one-handed, eyes closed, in a foreign language. While driving. The ease of texting (or tweeting) is second nature. I don't even have a keypad on my Android phone, and I can STILL text (mostly accurately) without looking.

That's sad, huh?

I need a hobby.

And I need to stop going off on tangents here.

On my way home from work last night (admittedly a very, very short drive), my phone (which sat next to me, untouched, in the passenger seat) alerted me of a message on Twitter. The chime of my phone is the equivalent (probably) of someone's child crying. I know it. My head cocks. My immediate response is LOOK! At the phone! Something is waiting for you! REPLY! Hurry! The world will DIE if you don't! DO YOU WANT TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT? All because you did NOT reply to that tweet!

Come on, people, that's pressure.

But I ignored it. I did. I felt really good about it. I didn't even pick UP my phone. It just sat there, flashing. Alone. I held my head all high and mighty like, LOOK AT ME ABIDING BY THE LAW. I can do this!

And then it started to burn. My curiosity. That uncomfortable need. Like when you miss a spot while filing your nails, and there's that snag. That corner of fingernail that eats at you and all you want to do is BITE IT OFF. Cut it. SOMETHING. Make it go away. But you can't because you promised yourself to stop biting your nails, too. And WHY DO I KEEP MAKING PROMISES THAT ARE SO HARD TO KEEP? That burn. You know it.

I could see the notification light flashing out of the corner of my eye. I tried to drive with my right eye closed so I couldn't see it, but that seemed to defeat the purpose of encouraging safe driving.

I'm pleased to say that despite the twitching and burning and aching inside (I feel like this would be similar to an unfortunate sexually transmitted disease. Although aren't all STDs unfortunate? Huh), I made it all the way home without touching my phone.

Krista: 1

Breaking The Law: 0

Now if I'd just stop speeding. And whoring myself out on the side. And dealing cocaine.

(No, I really don't do those things).

(In case you needed clarification).

(Carry on).