Long car trips by myself used to make me anxious. I would do them, but I would dread them. They were boring and monotonous and stressful and every once in a while I would have a really bad one, where I would get lost (Mapquest, anyone?) or run out of gas (just once, pre-cell phone), or have to pull over on the side of a highway during a blinding rain storm.
In a former life, having a companion for a long car trip was definitely preferable.
Then I had kids. And my car trip companions tend to make the car journeys rather difficult. There are vomiting incidents, multiple bathroom breaks, malfunctioning DVD players, thrown food, breastfeeding stops, tantrums, yelling, crying, and just generally noise. Really, really loud noise.
All of a sudden, the idea of a solo car trip became enticing. And lucky for me, I took one such solo trip last weekend, to New York City for a bachelorette party.
I was really looking forward to this trip for a number of reasons. I was able to see my sister. I was able to celebrate my good friend (the bachelorette herself). I was able to get my nails done. I was able to order a bloody mary at a bar at 1pm and then order another one after that. I was able (by the grace of God) to stay out until 2am dancing. At a real life bar!
But I also was able to get a little over of 7 hours to myself in the car. SEVEN HOURS with no one to bother me! SEVEN HOURS of me and my own thoughts!
This rarely happens. The thinking that is. I am generally always doing. Feeding, cleaning, carpooling, refereeing, cooking, talking, yelling, organizing, internet surfing, planning, going, going, going, and then when that's all done, I usually watch some crappy reality television just so I don't have to think. And then I sleep. For as long as I possibly can.
But in a car, all you can do is think. And I thought a lot. For example, I decided that: