a vacation from my problems?
every day on my way to work, as i get ready to exit the freeway, the thought flashes through my head that maybe i should just keep driving.
every single day.
and to be perfectly candid, this has been happening since i was 19, except at that point, i had this fantasy worked out where i'd drive to some small town in the deep south, get a job as a waitress, and probably buy a sun dress and some cowboy boots... i think i'd been watching "hope floats" excessively.
there's no current fantasy that accompanies the "keep on driving" thought. it's more of a daily self evalutation. an "am i ready to start the day" kind of joke. mostly because i'm always headed north, and what am i gonna fantasize about? driving to idaho and building a house out of sage brush?
no.
anyways, friday i was driving to work, and as i got ready to exit the freeway, the thought flashed through my head that maybe i should just keep driving. and really, after like, 4 years, it's time to listen to the ever present, advice spewing, internal voice.
i called in sick to work and kept on driving, ending up in big sky, montana where i ate a lot of pastries (road trip calories don't exist), drank a lot of mountain dew (road trip caffeine doesn't exist), and watched a lot of animal planet (road trip boredom doesn't exist).
a somewhat connected remembrance: when i was 17, my family and i had many major verbal brawls. during one in particular, i decided that maybe i should just leave. because that's what teenagers do. they get their driver's license and try to escape their adolescent angst at 75 miles per hour. i stormed out to my powder blue plymouth reliant and sped off to, like, centerville, blasting bon jovi the whole way and thinking about how it was my life and how i don't want to live forever but i do want to live while i'm alive.
and also i thought about how bon jovi had better hair than i did.
i guess not much has changed. the need for this psuedo-control, and independence doesn't really go away after teenagedom. and really, why would it? responsibilities change, priorities change. control freakishness is a constant.
every single day.
and to be perfectly candid, this has been happening since i was 19, except at that point, i had this fantasy worked out where i'd drive to some small town in the deep south, get a job as a waitress, and probably buy a sun dress and some cowboy boots... i think i'd been watching "hope floats" excessively.
there's no current fantasy that accompanies the "keep on driving" thought. it's more of a daily self evalutation. an "am i ready to start the day" kind of joke. mostly because i'm always headed north, and what am i gonna fantasize about? driving to idaho and building a house out of sage brush?
no.
anyways, friday i was driving to work, and as i got ready to exit the freeway, the thought flashed through my head that maybe i should just keep driving. and really, after like, 4 years, it's time to listen to the ever present, advice spewing, internal voice.
i called in sick to work and kept on driving, ending up in big sky, montana where i ate a lot of pastries (road trip calories don't exist), drank a lot of mountain dew (road trip caffeine doesn't exist), and watched a lot of animal planet (road trip boredom doesn't exist).
a somewhat connected remembrance: when i was 17, my family and i had many major verbal brawls. during one in particular, i decided that maybe i should just leave. because that's what teenagers do. they get their driver's license and try to escape their adolescent angst at 75 miles per hour. i stormed out to my powder blue plymouth reliant and sped off to, like, centerville, blasting bon jovi the whole way and thinking about how it was my life and how i don't want to live forever but i do want to live while i'm alive.
and also i thought about how bon jovi had better hair than i did.
i guess not much has changed. the need for this psuedo-control, and independence doesn't really go away after teenagedom. and really, why would it? responsibilities change, priorities change. control freakishness is a constant.
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