Yesterday I attempted to perform my civic duty as a citizen of the United States. That is to say, I tried to vote. Little did I realize that in early voting, there are only a few select poll stations available, and that those polling stations are relatively far, far away.
It was a fairly nice day (not as nice as today, curse my luck for having to be at school) so I decided to walk to (what I thought) was the closest poll – a high school a few blocks from my apartment, or around 20 minutes walking distance. This is no great distance. I like to be outside and I like to exercise. Plus, if I walked instead of taking my car, I wouldn’t have to go to the gym, horror of all horrors.
This semester, the stars aligned and I only have to be on campus Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have used my “free time” to my advantage and have taken to walking to the grocery store, post office, and library whenever possible. During my walks I have rediscovered how the world looks different on foot. I’ve found shops that I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. I’ve enjoyed not going to the gas station every week. I can’t say I’ve saved much money, but I feel good about myself.
All of these positive feelings and more swept over me during my walk. I thought about the joy I would have blogging about my experience, about calling my mom to brag about my good deed. That is until I reached the high school and there were no polling booths. No signs. No obvious indicator that it’s election season. I felt very creepy walking into the school in my walking shorts only to see dozens of high school girls in khaki pleated skirts. I turned around tout suite and walked home with my tail between my legs. I went home to discover that the nearest polling station is at least 3 miles away. Too far to comfortably (and safely) walk.
So much for my dreams of beginning a walking revolution in Houston, land of oil and Big Cars. Oh well. At least it gave me something to write about.