Hunter/Gatherer

Ah, of course – I spend time with family and think I have all of these stories to tell and the moment I sit down to write my mind goes blank. Mmm.....awesome. My primary thought is, “I'm so happy to be home.” I love my family, but, as Adam pointed out, I have a point where I can't do something anymore and it's best if I bow out before I explode. (So we left early when I reached that point in Indiana.)

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

I suppose I should break this up in to smaller segments so that I'm not overwhelming you with one long-ass entry that rambles and makes no sense; I'll give you SEVERAL rambling entries instead. Lucky you.

If you follow my Twitter account you know that prior to the trip I was trying to pack with very little input from Adam and, rather than rising to the challenge, I went to my Crazy Place and started packing stuff we didn't need: sleeping bags, two first aid kits, bottled water, etc. (It turns out I packed all of Adam's socks but no shoes for him so he was stuck wearing flip-flops the whole time, but that's totally his fault for not answering my question about the whereabouts of his Chucks.) By the time we were able to pick up the car I had lost all grip on my sanity and could barely swallow air on the way to the rental place.

Once again, Adam and I made what should've been a routine experience a nightmare. On the way to the rental place I'm having a panic attack because I just KNOW something's going to go wrong and Adam is incapable of reading signs and driving at the same time. It's infuriating, really, but I usually navigate rather skillfully and he doesn't have to think, but since I was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack I was useless. By the time we find the place Adam is screaming in frustration and I'm shaky from the attack.

We approach the counter in stoney silence (is there any other kind) and I speak with the reservation clerk. Immediately they tell me that can't accept my debit card, but I kind of throw a very small, very mature tantrum about how their website said nothing about this and so the lady makes a deal with me, but only if we agree to lie to the guy who's actually going to give me the car. I'm, like, cool, but Adam starts getting upset.He hates lying.

While we were walking toward the car pick-up area he's ranting under his breath about how he hates lying and how it's my fault for not handling this very well. Typical Adam stress behavior, but I wasn't in the mood and I got snippy back.

Here's where I defend myself by saying I was stressed and Adam was grumpy and Nora was ready for a nap and I did that thing you should never do – I signed the paperwork without looking at it first.

I KNOW!!!!

This will come back to bite me in the ass later.

I get the keys and drive the car home. I loved the car. Of course, having zero transportation I could've been given a soapbox derby car and I would've loved it.