'we can reach our destination, but we're still a ways away'
Today I made 14 different trips in the car in less than 12 hours.
They were trips of little significance, but the most productive hours of my day were spent confined to a car.
Fourteen times. In less than 12 hours.
I went here and there.
Back and forth.
North and south.
East and west.
East and west.
East and west.
East and west.
East and west
There was lathering. There was rinsing. There was repeating.
It wasn't until the 13th trip that the thought of not returning home crossed my mind.
Did I say crossed? I meant it parked there. The idea of not returning home parked - probably illegally - in the space that had opened up in the front of my brain, and it proceeded to sit there with its motor running and its brakes engaged, allowing the glowing fire of its questionable intent to shine, confusing the other thoughts that circled the lot, wondering if it the thought was there to stay for awhile, or planning to reverse right out so one of them could slip victoriously back into the prized position.
In the time I spent in left turn lane limbo, my signal blink, blink, blinking my original intent, I considered my other. I glanced briefly into the driver's side mirror and back toward where I'd come, then quickly turned my eyes forward and thought of where I could go and who I might be when I arrived there.
I liked it there, that place where I imagined ending up. I thought I could be awesome there. I could go on and on and tell you why I did, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because it's late and I'm tired.
And it doesn't matter because on my 14th trip, I pointed the car toward the west again, and once again, I'm home.
I just wish I knew what I was doing now that I'm here again.
posted by for a different kind of girl @ 9:55 PM
15 Comments:
I've done that a time or two myself. The car always ends up back in the same garage it came from. One day it won't.
Your post reminds me of Dr. Seuss' 'Itch-a-Pods',
"Animals which
Race around, back and forth,
Forth and back, through the air,
On a very wide highway
Between Here and There.
They think There is too far;
They think Here is too near. . .
So they're too scared to roost wheresoever they are. . ."
Not, you know, that I read much Dr. Seuss, so as to have instant recall of entire sections of his books, or anything. . .
Glad you found your way home. . .
I have felt the same way and I don't have the same responsibilities. What would happen if I just left? Normal thoughts, but sorry you're thinking them.
I think everyone feels this way...SAHM running endless errands...people with office jobs doing the same grueling commute every day. It's inevitable that you might daydream about escape.
And then one day...you make it happen...in a responsible sort of way, of course.
Just let me know where to meet you. And there better be wine.
I wish I was the sort of person who could non-ironically send *hugs* via the internet, because I feel like that is called for here. So, ya know...
This post reminds me of when I count how many trips I've made to the high school in one day. It is so damn boring and monotonous, being a mom sometimes. Hope your weekend is a tad more exciting.
you could be awesome there, but you're awesome here.
Home again home again jiggedy jig.
Buddy, aint none of us know what we're doing here at least half the time.
I used to invent trips to take just to have an excuse to leave the house ALONE.
"I'm just running out to pick up the asdrfejklmmmnmbbrmm... ahem back in a bit!"
Life is made up of the deviations from routine.
Even when you know where you want to be, getting there can be so freaking hard.
every day I decide I am going to accomplish something, but the only thing I accomplish is spending HOURS IN THE CAR.
rinse and repeat.
I remember working close enough to home to be able to make crazy-many seemingly nonsensicle trips every now and then.
I kinda almost miss those days. Not the trips, just the days.
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