Running the Gauntlet

So I ran the gauntlet of the curfew tonight. 

It's not something I've done before, but after dinner and a quick movie round at my 'bubble's' place, complete with birthday cake. A  judgement call was made. If I left by 8.45 I'd be home just after nine seeing the Westgate would be next to empty, and this would have me breaching the curfew by a few minutes. 

If I didn't have this blasted curfew, I'd have stayed later. I was having a good time. And if there wasn't my darling pussycat and an early Zoom call tomorrow, I might have stayed over and continued  to drink Barney's smokey single malt which he does not like at all (too peaty for him, just peaty enough for me) and cuddled Blarney's affectionate cats instead of having to come home to play laser pointer with the King of the planet Passiva Aggressiva. 

The other thing I'm aware of is that I live in an area where there's a bit of a police presence. It comes  with living near Richmond's Golden Rectangle, near the needle exchange and shooting gallery. But on the other hand, I'm a middle aged woman in a mask - basically invisible to all and sundry. Also, it's not like I'm driving around with the stereo blasting with a car load of people. I'm just peacefully coming back from my bubble's place with my audiobook playing on the car stereo, and if asked, I'd lost track of time. Also, it's not like it was midnight - I'll gently push some boundaries, but not that much.  

It's nights like this that you rue the curfew. I don't normally. Being home by nine is rarely an issue. Besides, with everything closed, where are you going to go? It's just when you'd rather stay out that you feel put upon. 

Being a good citizen, I reluctantly left Blarney's place just on ten to nine. 

And then the issues came. The ramp onto the Westgate was closed. Instead of twenty minutes of mostly freeway driving, I had to go the back way through Yarraville and Footscray and across the top of town. Which would take me another ten or so minutes. According to Shirley the GPS, I'd be due home around 9.30. 

The streets are dead. There are a few cars about - pretty much no foot traffic and the odd fast food delivery driver, but that's it. Thankfully the run home was quick and the lights went in my favour. Sure, there's was the dickhead who had his high beam on, shining into my rear view mirror who rode my arse down Dynon Road, and I realy wished I could have blasted him with a compact mirror, but I let it go. I was doing something naughty - you don't bring attention to yourself. 

But I got home, without any problems, at 9.15.  Shirley the GPS didn't take the empty streets into account. A little late, but yeah, it's what happens. 

Am I mad about the curfew? No. If it helps keep people off the street while this bastard of a disease is trying to take over and the bulk of the population aren't fully vaccinated, then no, I don't mind it. Do I like it? Other than it is blissfully quiet about the place, not really. Do I comply with the COVID rules set out? Pretty much. I can't see too much of an issue getting home 15 minutes after curfew. It's not like I've been to a house party or wandered around St Kilda without a mask, bumming cigarettes off strangers while searching for a non-existent open pub. 

But would I rather be out drinking peaty whisky, while watching a movie after a feed of curry, cuddling sooky cats. You betcha. 

Do I ponder my compliance to the rules? I do, but I can see why they're in place. I like to think I would be able to talk my way out of a fine if I was to be questioned - especially being only 15 late. Sure. 

These aren't times to arc up in a big way. And so I'm home, with a sleeping Lucifer on his (my) pillow in the couch, wishing things were different. And hopefully, complying with the rules will help 'normal life' come back. 

But this too, this COVID shite, shall pass. 

Today's Song:

Today's Cards:

The Enchanted Map Cards: Heal the Ouch

Archetype Card: Don Juan

Cards Against Humanity: Instead of coal, Santa now gives the bad children EDIBLE UNDERPANTS.