100,024 miles later…

Have you ever wondered (really) what it would be like to be in someone else’s shoes?

The Camaro’s driver seat is finally well worn enough that it fits my body like a glove. That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a comfortable ride. I sit cocked a little to the right with my right forearm on the center console, my left arm extended with my fingers wrapped around the top of the steering wheel. My thumbs sticks out and I am always taking notice of my thumb ring and nail polish color.

I notice that I streaked the windshield when the tail lights of the car in front of me take on a weird “shadowy” effect. Traffic seems a little heavy on the interstate tonight. Lots of little white dots that grow larger and stronger until they are past me. I realize that I’ve been following this same truck for awhile now because I always repeat the tag number of the vehicle in front of me over and over in my head. Weird things I do #363. Headlights assault my eyes from the rearview mirror as a SUV slides in behind me.

The road sign says Mile 23.. 1 more mile to go. I come up behind a slow car, following an even slower 18 wheeler. 1 more mile.. heck I’ll just follow them at 62 mph. (Posted speed – 65 mph).

I’m off the exit and going around the curve to get onto 385 (hwy) and notice a pair of eyes staring at me. “Hey Bambi!” .. I cross the bridge back over the Interstate and realize as I sing “Question” by System of a Down that I really have to bad of a headache to be singing this song. But I keep singing.
Then I look in my passenger side mirror (Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear) to make sure that no cars are coming on the highway and realize that I super screwed up the “mirror cleaning” I tried to give it when I was cleaning my windows. It looks like everything has a fog around it. Lol.

It’s really dark out now. So dark that the trees are barely even shadows on the side of the road. It’s amazing how the dark seems so much more, well…. dark on a side road.

Then I think how amazing it is that I see all of these things and wondered if I could ever describe something so intensely that someone else was able to feel exactly what I felt when I was looking at what I was looking at. Then I thought that I’d blog about it because until I’ve written a lot of things, I’ll never be able to write a novel worth reading. (Might as well practice on ya’ll).

Ah, the lights of the brand new gas station with the great potato wedges. Umm… all warm and dipped into some really cold ketchup. Heaven! 2 more left turns, to 2 more right turns and I’m home.

The garage door opener never works the first time I hit it. Dammit.

I pull into the garage, (taking care not to pull in to far and mess up Larry’s saw), take one more toke off the pipe, turned down “Rooster” by Alice in Chains, and turned the key off. Where is the lid to my Sprite?

I gather my purse, water bottle and cell phone (I’ve forgotten it twice already this week) and wince when I close my car door because the window rattles so loud.

I open the back door and am bombarded by dog licks and Larry giggling. I am able to fend off most of the dog slobbers but get a lick up side my forehead when my lips meet Larry’s. Umm.. his lips are so soft; not near as warm as I figured they’d be.

I get one more kiss as Dallas’ paws batter my right thigh. I watch Destin as he chases a straw he’s stolen out of one of my cups. I sit down on the couch and saddle up to the laptop that Larry has .. um.. procured for us. *giggle*


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As I sit here watching Hockey (wheretf is the puck?) and re-read over my blog I realize that I won’t be writing a novel soon, but it is written well enough that when I’m 70 and can’t drive I can re-live this one moment….