I love road trips when they're for fun reasons. The adventure of seeing new places. Trying out new restaurants. Marveling how similar and yet how different areas of the United States are.
But over 5,000 miles in less than a month when I'm still sore from getting the house on the market and a bad cold on top of that? Definitely not as fun.
If you're reading this on the day it posts, I should be somewhere between Houston and Memphis. Memphis, being the rough halfway point between Houston and Toledo. As DH comments every time we make the drive, it's the most boring leg of interstate on the trip.
And before any Arkansas and East Texas folks get their panties in a wad, DH is not into logging, camping, fishing or country music. Which, let's face it, is all there is between the mighty Mississippi and the Gulf Coast.
And if y'all feel the need to bitch, I'll include your crystal meth production in my list. At least the rednecks where I grew up produce something a little more beneficial like pot.
Anyway, my convertible has a new heart (engine), new brakes, new tires, and she's purring again. I'm so very glad not to be in a mini-van anymore. Before anyone gets their dander up about THAT, (1) I've been driving either my Saturn or the convertible for the last twenty-three years, and (2) I tend to forget that a mini-van has a higher center of gravity and can't take turns as fast or as sharp as a sports car. So far I haven't had any mishaps. (*knocking on wood*)
So I've got my CDs (my baby's a '98, i.e. before MP3 connections became standard) and my trail mix (Archer Farms Cashew, Cranberry & Almond--best stuff evah!), and I'm on the road. Can't wait to be writing and cooking our new place!
I just need to remember to slow down through the tiny burgs along U.S. 59. I don't need Officer Bailey pulling me over for speeding for the second time in a week.
(*sigh* Yes, I broke my ten year, seven month record for no tickets.)