The Eve of Tomorrow

by Janie Jones

I’m panicking.

I have to travel south tomorrow.

I absolutely hate traveling.  I hate being in the car all day.  I hate driving all day.  I hate the hemorrhaging of the bank account that always happens when traveling is necessary.  I’ll spare you all the minutiae of what the voices (both of real people and those purely in my head) are saying to fuel my panic.  Suffice to say, my biggest problem is I’m just a home body.  I don’t like being more than a few hours from home.  I have never in all my life found a place further than that that was worth all the stress visiting causes.

Despite the awareness that this is a duty I must honor, that I will be getting in the Jeep at o’ dark thirty tomorrow and schlepping my sorry ass south while pasting a happy smile on my face in attempt to strong arm myself into tolerating it with equanimity and good grace, I can’t quite force myself to accept it.  I feel like I’m having this strange alien-mind control experience.  I see myself going through all the motions and preparing for this trip while inside my brain I’m screaming, “Noooooooo!  Don’t do it!”  And, no matter how much I want to stop I just can’t.  It’s rather nightmarish.

But, the spud is counting on me.   I have to take her to her dad’s wedding.   I’ve already made all the plans and promises, so this is going to happen.  And, I am nothing if I’m not a good planner.  I have a budget.  I have maps.  I have a car in reasonably good condition that is comfortable for me to drive.  I have phone numbers and addresses on paper and programmed into my phone.  I have lists.  I’ll be checking them twice, three times even.  I’m sure everything will be fine.  I’m hoping I can thrash my emotions into shape and make myself presentable and comport myself as befits a rational, mature adult.

I’m really hoping the hotel in Chicagoland is nice.  Because, should all else fail, if I can at least get through Friday afternoon when the Ex picks up the spud for the weekend, I can then just lock myself up in the hotel room.  There is something somewhat comforting in the thought of having a nice hotel room alone to oneself with a stack of books, some movies, and a buffet of junk food and the freedom to read, surf the internet, sleep, cry or whatever my heart desires with nobody else’s needs to consider but my own until check out time Sunday when he brings the spud back and we begin the return journey.

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4 Comments to “The Eve of Tomorrow”

  1. Drive carefully.

    Stop and buy one, one dollar scratch off ticket. It’s only a dollar and you might win some mad money. Stranger things have happened.

  2. Focus on the hotel, all that lovely emptiness! You just have to pretend to be rational grown up for a short time, then you get to veg about being yourself again, then a grown up, then you’ll be home.
    Take care Janie

  3. How often do you get a whole weekend to yourself? Enjoy it. Go sight-seeing.

  4. I’ve been wrapped up in self-indulgent crap for ages now, and haven’t been reading the blogs of people who are my supportive friends. I’m so sorry I missed this, it can’t have been an easy time. I hope you got through it ok. Tin x.

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