(Sports Utility Vehicle—Veggie Tales)
There is nothing like sitting in the car forever and ever (okay, or like 9 hours) to make you notice how many songs mention something about driving…or how Francesca Battistelli seems to have a lot of driving issues…’cause she’s written more than one song about her driving incidents. Not that I am one to judge considering I will be the first to admit that I can’t park to save my life, but it’s nice to know other people will also bravely admit their faults.
Also, it doesn’t seem to matter what I put in my driving playlist on my laptop. It seems no matter what I include there is something different I actually wanted to listen to, and for the most part I do not search for the songs I want while I am driving, because that tends to take my eyes off the road a little too much…which is why maybe my laptop is singing Wordless Ones by Michael Card, which is a great song, but my mouth is singing “I am the colony queen, I know that I look like a dream, I am always a mother to be such responsibility!” (L-A-Z-Y, Discovery at Camp Wise’n’up)…and making up new verses to the lady who swallowed a fly…and singing the song that actually does end (because once I was singing the song that never ends on my way home from school during second year and my dad said he knew how the song ended—when he drove off the road into a tree if I didn’t shut up…this is why small easily portable items that can be played with in a confined space in my lap were very useful when I was not the one driving).
I used to not understand why my mom didn’t like driving. I mean, getting my license did take away some of my freedom—no more was it acceptable to bike everywhere—but driving wasn’t bad. Well, driving gets really old really fast when you spend as much time in the car as you do when you are no longer a high school student…and you have to stop when the lights or signs say so and drive the speed they tell you to and always face forward and follow the yellow brick road…no creativity allowed…well…usually.
This morning there was a traffic jam at like 6 in the morning. I was not a happy camper. I specifically leave early to avoid traffic (okay, and because what else am I going to do when all my stuff is packed, plus it gives me time at home to unwind and unpack)…I was at a complete stop for like 10 minutes…like not even creeping forward. The people in front of me were talking and started going up the entrance ramp…so now I can say that probably the most perfectly executed three-point turn I’ve ever made in my life was on a freeway entrance ramp…usually my three point turns are more like 7 or 9 point turns…but when you have to get out of the way of all the people behind you and also don’t want to be that person right in the middle when someone unsuspectingly tries to go down the ramp, you have like one chance and you don’t want to mess it up. If you are in the middle of like nowhere, it also means that while everyone else seems to know exactly where they are going that you get to pull over long enough to pull up a map and figure out how you plan on getting home without that one road that is on the laminated directions you’ve been using the past three years…
Speaking of traffic, there was also a traffic jam just before my exit on the freeway…there were two cars stopped along the side of the road, and one stopped in the middle lane…okay, seriously people? I might not know a lot about what to do in an accident/emergency—my go to is freak out and call my daddy—but even I know that if it is possible you are supposed to get to the side of the road so that you aren’t blocking the rest of traffic…so yeah there was a traffic jam because all four lanes had to squish over to the left two lanes right in the spot where everyone usually works really hard to get merged into the furthest right lane to get off (it is seriously work, and occasionally despite driving the one lane over don’t make it and have to take the next exit). So yeah…that was a mess…I’m very glad I’ve never gotten into an accident on the freeway…because now that I think about it, I might get so freaked out that I’d become that idiot everyone hates who stops in the middle of the road because my brain tells me that I need to stop and my logic system isn’t working well enough to figure out how to do so appropriately. I mean, I did figure out to pull over ONE of the times I got a flat tire (the other time I drove to school…because I had no idea what to do).
Trash bags in the car work better if you can actually reach them wile driving…which is why I was glad there was a wash cloth on the top of my laundry basket to line the cup holder to create a place to set down apple cores besides in my pockets…yeah, I totally think things through in advance. Well, I guess occasionally I do! I went searching for a gas station last night because I knew I would be super annoyed at myself if I got to the dangerously low level in the middle of nowhere in the morning. I prefer to stop at gas stations when there is at least a moderate amount of light outside so driving aimlessly at 5pm is better than panicking that there are no gas stations anywhere at 6am…speaking of yesterday, I think I got my workout for the year going up and down the stairs at my apartment building packing up the car…I have a lot of stuff.
And all that stuff is now inside my house. There are a lot of things that out of convenience I either have multiple copies of to avoid having to pack them to go back and forth or have an excessive amount because I would rather have too much than constantly worry about not having enough…which is why after getting all my clothes clean and in my room I decided that once I located my toothbrush the rest of the unpacking might wait for a VERY long time…so much stuff…and there is still more in my apartment. I am starting to regret my impulse purchase of a red and white dish set in like January or February when I found it online and fell in love…how many dishes does one girl need?! I already packed what felt like an insane amount of dishes and there are still plenty more dishes at my apartment. I do not look forward to eventually completely moving out of my parents house…although more closet and dresser space would solve a lot of the issues, since the biggest problem is that there are clothes everywhere because I have a tiny dresser at home and my closet is overrun by piles of paperwork that perhaps I need to let go of…after doing so much work moving all my stuff once I should maybe capitalize on the momentum and just throw away anything I do not need right here right now before it becomes an emotional battle to do so.
At a gas station this afternoon someone asked me if I was a runner. My brain was so confused. I actually just said no and left it at that and the lady didn’t ask more questions, but inside my head I was like aren’t runners supposed to be like skinny or something? Yeah, I am definitely not skinny anymore…probably because of days like today where I ate an entire frozen pizza (after cooking it, I’m not a cave girl) because that was easier than figuring out how to put it away appropriately…okay fine, my size might have a lot to do with the fact that food makes me happy and so especially when a lot of things are not happy, I eat…a lot. I am not opposed to eating many more than the traditional three meals per day and supplementing in between with snacks and candy and dessert…yeah, you kinda know either something is wrong or that my pickiness is getting in the way if I ever refuse food—particularly sugary food…I may have gotten distracted for over an hour upon arriving home analyzing the food options…and briefly declaring there was nothing to eat because there were no prepared bowls of ramen and peanut butter in the fridge…college taught me to be lazy…the idea of having to do more than get out a spoon and possibly put food in the microwave when I get hungry seems like so much work…kinda like how my next semester starts Monday…I kinda feel burnt out and ready for a break. I’m not so sure I’m ready to jump in to yet another semester…but I don’t really get a choice. I need to find my intern license and all the papers I need signed…and it would be way too easy if they could give us a list of our assignments in like a checklist or some other form besides a hundreds of slides long powerpoint and nearly 100 page syllabus…it feels like I must be missing something—I don’t feel like I have any idea what I am supposed to be doing, You’d think in that many pages you’d really know, but somehow they managed to write like the worlds longest syllabi without ever giving a really good definition of the assignments they wanted us to do…and I’m too mentally exhausted to deal with that right now. The part of school I am currently missing is that at school I am never 100% alone for an extended period of time…there is always someone at least passing by besides Annie inside my phone reading her book to me.
And sensorily I want to scream. The carpet might have been itchy, but at least I could be barefoot on it…my feet feel so claustrophobic inside my socks and I hate it and it makes me want to have a meltdown. Not a tantrum, a meltdown. A tantrum is a choice for attention seeking and communication to express frustration. A meltdown is an unchosen uncontrollable release of desperation. Like if someone wanted to cut my feet off right now I’d tell them to go ahead.