Blinded by the blights

Yesterday's events included an encounter with an annoying police officer and a severe case of carrot cake deprivation, both of which felt at the time like immense injustices except when considered alongside the long line of faculty members getting pulled into the Provost's office to learn that their services were not longer required. I thought that carrot cake would be the highlight of a very long, horrific day, but when I arrived at the department office, I found  nothing but a smear of buttercream. On the other hand, I still have a job! So no complaints.

And I will have to keep driving to that job right past the annoying police officer who told me, "I'll be watching you." What horrific crime did I commit to merit getting pulled over in the tiny river town along my route?

My headlights were too bright.

The first thing the officer said when he walked up to my window was, "Don't you know where the dimmer switch is?" Yes, officer, I know where the dimmer switch is, and my only complaint about my wonderful car is that when I drive at night, people are constantly flashing their brights at me to indicate I have my brights on when I don't. He scoffed and went to the front of my car and told me to flip the brights on and off, which I did. "Something's wrong with these lights," he said. 

I explained that I'd already mentioned the problem to my mechanic, who told me my lights were just fine. "Well they're too bright," said the officer, and I said okay, yes, maybe they are, but what am I supposed to do about it? "When someone flashes their brights at you," he said, "Be sure to flash them back." And then he told me he'd been watching me go by with my lights too bright every morning but never had a chance to pull me over until now--"But I'll be watching you," he said, which felt like a threat. 

So this morning my early meeting was cancelled (because people who are losing their jobs aren't in the mood for an 8 a.m. meeting) so I thought I'd solve the problem by leaving home a little later, when headlights were still required but barely necessary. But when I got to that tiny river town, there he was, that surly police officer, waiting for me. When he flashed his brights at me, I flashed back, a move I will have to make every morning as I drive to work because there is really no better route. 

Don't you know where your dimmer switch is? What I really want right now is a dimmer switch to turn down the intensity of all the negative feelings swirling around campus. Whoever invents that will make a killing.