Maybe not the most festive post, but…
I need to tell you about yesterday’s drive.
Wait. First, Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas! It’s heeeeeeere!
Now for the rest. It should be obvious by the fact that I’m posting this blog, but lest you wring your hands throughout the holidays, I should let you know that I made it to Colorado last night. The trip took me 11 hours rather than the typical 9, but all in all, smooth (albeit white-knuckled) sailing. The roads really were icy.
As I drove, I was thinking that one of the worst insults someone could give me would be to call me a bad driver. That would connote incompetence and stupidity – neither of which I’m really going for the gold in. And after yesterday’s drive, I am even more convinced that when it comes to driving, I am extremely proficient.
There was only one moment in which I kind of lost control of the car. I say kind of because it was when I was going over a bridge, and the ice is always worse on bridges, but you HAVE to drive over them to get to the other side – so I couldn’t do anything about it. Anyway, when I hit the ice, I felt the wheels spin and try to grip the road, but they didn’t find anything – isn’t it weird that we can FEEL when the tires are freaking out? – so they spun more, which made the car lurch, and the Honda CATAPULTED forward.
If my heart were a horse, in that moment, it would have reared up on its hind legs.
Luckily, dry pavement was waiting on the other side, and everything was recovered (minus my pulse).
So, all in all, an inconsequential story. Sorry.
In the entire 11-hour drive, I only stopped once – in Hays, Kansas, at 2:06pm for gas and lunch. But I was severely disappointed to discover that every fast food joint had closed at 2:00 for Christmas Eve. My only option was to go to a little grocery store called Dillon’s and choose a sad, underwhelming sandwich from a rack near the deli: wheat bread, Swiss cheese, and turkey – the watered down kind. There were no condiments.
I also picked up a Gala apple, but the first bite I took of it included a significant chunk of my lower lip. I cussed, and then felt sorry for myself because I could no longer eat the apple with gusto.
When I finally hobbled in the door at my parent’s house in Colorado Springs, I announced that all I want for Christmas is a butt massage. No one offered.
Happy Christmas to all of you!