Sunday, February 05, 2017
Today I am grateful for ingenuity. When we are on a road trip I do all of the driving. . .unless I am starting to nod off, then I might have Himself take an hour stretch or so, but usually not. Yesterday we were on the road for 13 hours. Or may 300, which is what it feels like. I was just about unglued by the time we found a place to stay and I am letting the passenger sleep in a little so he’s not cranky.
I am very happy that we will not have bad weather during this necessary drive to Wisconsin because of the health of my 90 year old mother, but there is still injustice out there, visible in the sky so seldom that I questioned what it was.
Himself is always cold. Always. I could wrap him in a sleeping bag and he would still be freezing in the car. So he wants the heat on. But I die, my eyes dry out and I can’t stay perky and witty and awake with it too warm. Let the games begin! I’m turning the heat off, he’s turning it on. . .until I can’t take it and turn it off again. We adjust the temp setting and twiddle with vents and blowers until it’s an aerobic activity.
Then the universe works against us. Himself is in the shade and shivering like a virgin in a frat house. But because I am driving and we are heading west, the glaring sun is hitting me the entire time. Right through the sides of my sunglasses. Just below where the turned visor would help block it even if I could tip it down without all of the junk falling out of it.
I drive with my hand up until my arm gets tired, then my ingenuity kicks in. Aren’t I clever? And doesn’t this “handicapped sign” I’m wearing totally fit. . .in so many ways?