The dangers of too much grand prix

Note to self: after an afternoon of Malibu Grand Prix driving (where I hauled ass, my best time: 61.01) followed by lots of driving video games (one where I drove an 18-wheeler from NYC to the Florida Keys, but crashed onto the beach), it is not good to drive home at rush hour. Ten laps of pedal-to-the-metal, squealing 'round corners, Mario Andretti-eque driving gets into one's blood, and I had to control my urges to floor it up the 280, weaving and whizzing past drones heading home after a long day at the desk.