It is 6:29 p.m., and I am getting on a computer — not even my own — for the first time today. The reason? My son’s tournament basketball game a half hour north of our hometown, followed by a trip down to visit with my mother-in-love, usually a 2 1/2 hour drive south of us. The game ended in a loss, and the drive south ended in a loss of an additional hour. We suffered bumper-to-bumper traffic with numerous slowdowns. It’s called I-75 for a reason, right? I like to go 75 mph. Not 25 mph. Not 35 mph. Not even just 60 mph. I should be happy we encountered no accidents and arrived — late — safely. But that won’t stop me from fuming and fussing and considering the top ten reasons I hate holiday travel:
- Too many other people travel too.
- Those too many people drive crazy fast and weave in and out of traffic or drive obliviously slow in the wrong lane.
- Those other people traveling apparently stop whenever I stop, so I encounter them again and again.
- Slowdowns, stoppages, and too-tall vehicles blocking my view of the road ahead.
- Gas station bathrooms. Enough said.
- The 17-year-old traveling inside my car thinks he could do a better job at driving.
- The holiday spirit we once had? Gone.
- Packing bags and packing cars. Unpacking bags and unpacking cars. Repacking. Re-unpacking.
- The traveling paradox: The visit is never long enough for me, but I can’t wait to get home.
- Knowing that the trip home isn’t likely going to be any better.
And the worst thing? Not knowing where or when I’ll write my next blog post…
All Things Work Together 