Last Monday, I got a call from my sister. Hey, you wanna go see Granny this weekend? I'm at work so I ask her to call me back in 20.
I then silently mull over my plans for the weekend--none.
My checking account? Okay. I get paid the Friday they want to leave so I have a little spending money.
My sanity?
Check please!
I've never been the type of guy that would be considered "straight & narrow"; sometimes my own thought process makes me sit back and ask, WTF??? There's a reason for this mini-impromptu self-assessment. Most of my grannies live within a five to ten minute drive from my house. So, when my sister asks the question: "hey, you wanna go see Granny this weekend?", she could only be talking about one Granny, Grandma Dorothy...who lives in Savannah, GA. The most preferred form of transportation in our family is the car. This revelation leads to two words which don't scare me when used separately. Together, they're two of the most frightening words in the English language...
ROAD TRIP!!!
Anything less than four hours is fine. I can deal. I can listen to music, read & play my Game Boy as a distraction.
Four hours and one second is one second too long! That's the moment where all of the other distractions begin to wear off. I start looking out the window for distractions; most people like to do that on a road trip, but as I've said earlier, I'm not like most people. This does little for me. How many farms and billboards about Jesus or topless bars can one look at before the novelty about traveling by car begins to wear off? Highway hypnosis? Sort of. In my case, I don't feel drowsy after staring at yellow dashes in the road, I do however find myself looking at yellow dashes in the road for several miles and realizing that it's a good thing no one knows what I'm doing because they would realize what I already know; that my life is sad. After four hours, I miss the ability to stand, I'm too antsy to but can't move around. I'm too tired but I can't sleep. I'm just a jittery, frayed, kinetic Gordian knot of anger, depression, anxiety and frustration.
I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate roa...
http://www.flyi.com/
I then silently mull over my plans for the weekend--none.
My checking account? Okay. I get paid the Friday they want to leave so I have a little spending money.
My sanity?
Check please!
I've never been the type of guy that would be considered "straight & narrow"; sometimes my own thought process makes me sit back and ask, WTF??? There's a reason for this mini-impromptu self-assessment. Most of my grannies live within a five to ten minute drive from my house. So, when my sister asks the question: "hey, you wanna go see Granny this weekend?", she could only be talking about one Granny, Grandma Dorothy...who lives in Savannah, GA. The most preferred form of transportation in our family is the car. This revelation leads to two words which don't scare me when used separately. Together, they're two of the most frightening words in the English language...
ROAD TRIP!!!
Anything less than four hours is fine. I can deal. I can listen to music, read & play my Game Boy as a distraction.
Four hours and one second is one second too long! That's the moment where all of the other distractions begin to wear off. I start looking out the window for distractions; most people like to do that on a road trip, but as I've said earlier, I'm not like most people. This does little for me. How many farms and billboards about Jesus or topless bars can one look at before the novelty about traveling by car begins to wear off? Highway hypnosis? Sort of. In my case, I don't feel drowsy after staring at yellow dashes in the road, I do however find myself looking at yellow dashes in the road for several miles and realizing that it's a good thing no one knows what I'm doing because they would realize what I already know; that my life is sad. After four hours, I miss the ability to stand, I'm too antsy to but can't move around. I'm too tired but I can't sleep. I'm just a jittery, frayed, kinetic Gordian knot of anger, depression, anxiety and frustration.
I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate road trips, I hate roa...
http://www.flyi.com/
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