Why I will never drive 8 hours on no more than 4 hours of sleep with my mother and a dog
2:30 a.m. last Wednesday morning. I open one eye to find a pink and black nose right in my face.
"Morning Wojo." He nudged me one more time for good measure, turned around and ran out of the room looking for my mom. This wasn't his usual routine. Seven year old yellow labs at my parent's house usually aren't awake at that time of the day. They're usually snuggled up on the be with their head on a pillow. Much like their owner's daughter.
"Wen, you up? It's almost 2:30."
"I know mom, I know. I'm getting in the shower right now," I yelled from a room I haven't slept in in almost seven years.
After a quick shower, some last minute packing and coxing of the dog to go outside we started our trip. The first 45 minutes were rough. Wojo wouldn't settle down in the backseat of my Saturn, no matter how much bribing we did. He cried. He barked. He tried to sit in my lap. Not unlike some of my formers now that I think about it. But I digress.
There were very few cars on the road at that time of the day so we made good time around Baltimore and Washington, just narrowly missing the tanker explosion on I-95 South by about an hour or so. There was an accident right near our first rest stop but we avoided that due to the incredibley long on and off ramps the designers so thoughtfully built in.
Eventually we were rolling through Virginia then into North Carolina. My mother only commented twice about my driving. Once to ask me if I was "sure I was going the right way" and the other to remind me "it's probably not a good idea to follow the other cars so closely."
My reply was a little more snippy than usual due to my lack of coffee that morning and well, only having four hours of sleep the night before.
"Who's driving mom? I think by now I know what I'm doing."
Most of the trip was uneventful. We rolled into Jacksonville somewhere around 11 a.m., called Little Sis to get her to come home and let us into her house, then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to keep her nine month old lab mix Cooper and Wojo seperated. Turns out seven year old yellow labs don't necessarily like to play after a long car ride.
My dad was supposed to be joining us the next day in time for our Thanksgiving meal. Notice the use of the words supposed to be. Instead of leaving at the time he said he was he called with some line about being sick to his stomach, needing to sleep, blah, blah, blah. Not too far off from his usual line of crap when he tries to back out of family related functions. The history is too much to get into now, if you want to get some of the story, go back to somewhere around the first couple of months in the archives.
Mom, Little Sis, the dogs and I ended up eating by ourselves. Dad arrived later in the afternoon. We talked a little bit but the tension was just too much for me. I grabbed Wojo and we went for a walk. Good thing too. Saw some Marine hotties out for a post meal run. Hubba hubba.
Friday morning I headed out for Williamsburg, Va. Room mate #1's mother has a time share there and had invited myself and former room mate to join the family for a few days. It was former room mate's first time there so we did as much of the tourist thing as we could, walking in Colonial Williamsburg, pastry's at the Walter Raleigh Tavern, shopping at the Prim Outlets and the Pottery. Compared with the tension at Little Sis's it was a nice restful way to end the holiday weekend.
Sunday we all made our way back to South Central Pennsyltucky. Room mate #1, former room mate and I made one last stop at the outlets before we jumped back onto the clogged highways. Geez, I've never seen traffic like that before. There were pockets of stop and go between Richmond and Washington, but once we got north of D.C. it was smooth sailing.
So now I have the next three days free until I head off on my next adventure, flying to Ann Arbor, Mich. to see my good friend Brent. I'm sure there will be many good stories out of that trip. I'm spending my time doing laundry and getting caught up on some little things that need to be done around here.
Oh, and we're going out tomorrow night to celebrate the end of my 20's. At midnight tomorrow another decade is behind me (actually it's not until about 7ish p.m. Wednesday, but who's counting?). I've come to terms with it really. Besides, isn't the new saying that 30 is the new 21?