Sign of Madness, or...?

For the first time yesterday, since I started driving 13 years ago, I found myself sitting in my car, (which was first in line) staring blankly into space while the traffic light turned from red to green to yellow and back to red. Drivers and passengers coming from the opposite direction gave me mocking smiles as they passed me.

First time in 13 years.
First time for a woman who is known for her vroomings the moment the light turns green - every time without fail for the past 13 years.

Yesterday however, she was no longer the woman she had been for the past 13 years.

What's happening to her, I wonder...

An Excerpt from SONG OF MYSELF, Walt Whitman

There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now;
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

Is she celebrating herself like Whitman did?
Is she assuming what he assumed?
Is she living in the "now" that he claimed was perfection in its most perfect form?
Or has she gone into a mad state otherwise known as ...?

I wonder, yet again.