The other night I stayed late at work. It was a battle between me and the IT team as far as who would shut the place down. At some point, I surrendered (read: I realized, why am I still working?!), said my goodbye, and walked out of the building.
Summer time on the West Coast means the days are longer, so when I walked out of the harsh building, I walked into sunlight. It felt like a promise of something more. It felt like freedom.
I enjoyed the view of the open sky above me and felt the breeze. It was a lively contrast to the indoor box I just came from. I jumped in my car to drive home.
At this point I’ll admit something. My car is my jam. My ride-or-die. (Literally?) I give it a “see ya later” pat when I park. Sometimes during the day I stare longingly at it out the window. It’s not creepy. Here’s why.
I feel limitless behind the wheel of my sassy white coupe.
I jumped into my car and smiled as the engine turned. Any thoughts of the long day melted out of mind. Any weight from my tasks and deadlines fell off my shoulders. Time to drive.
With my sunglasses secured, and my windows down to the perfect level, I turned up my car cruisin’ playlist, and, cruised home. We (my car and I that is) cruised down the surface streets, hit the green lights like magic, and joined a herd of late commuters on the California freeway.
Because it was later in the evening, we faced an open road, as opposed to the slow crawl we sometimes experience after work. It was a smooth drive. It was an effortless drive. Free-wheelin’.
Most times, when I miss an exit, what follows is some type of mild cursing, wracking my brain for the next best route, and attempting to navigate my way there. This night, I didn’t even realize I missed my exit until about ten minutes later. And you know what? I wasn’t mad about it.
Being on the open road, feeling the hum and the grounding movement, listening to the music settling my brain…it was like a therapy session.
There was no cursing, and no wracking my brain. There was only an observation, and a thoughtful decision about how to get to where I was going. In fact, when I did make the next exit, I chose to take the longer way home and enjoy the sun, the scenery, the cruise.
I got home later than planned. It meant I had to take an easier night, without filling up my hours with the chores I had planned. But it was exactly what I needed.
I’m still not mad about it.Browse Front PageShare Your Idea
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