I Did It!

In the interest of full disclosure I am not as brave or courageous as one might think; merely refer back to www.TheMagazineofYoga.com, to articles from May 7, 2011, "Sometimes the universe is trying to tell us something.  We  just might not be listening." And October 1, 2011, "Superstitions and Wacky Things That Go Bump in the Night," to refresh your memory. 

I am awe struck by people who think nothing of jetting off to Singapore, or cruising to exotic ports of call without batting an eyelash.  So while I am absolutely thrilled beyond belief I can see my daughter without a moments notice, the actual thought of driving alone across the state was a bit out of my very itty bitty comfort zone.

I headed out Monday morning, not letting on to anyone that I was just a teensy nervous I would make a wrong turn and end up lost in a corn field somewhere.  "I can do this!" was my rally cry. 

I was off with my GPS gal Susie, as I like to call her, and all was going quite well.  Fifteen minutes had flown by, "phew," I thought, only two hours and forty five minutes to go.  As civilization faded behind me, a mere fleck in the mirror, I settled in, passing nothing more than fields of sugar cane, orange groves and cows.  Lots and lots of cows.  Oklahoma came to mind, the musical, not the state, so as my radio signal faded I hummed the overture to myself until I realized, I had to use the ladies room. 

Twenty minutes passed and I could see low buildings on the horizon, "yeah!" no, just more cows.  Fifteen more minutes passed, "eureka," a town with a McDonald's!  Husband said, "If you stop, take the GPS down so no one breaks your windshield to steal it."  Now, that's a comforting thought.

I wrangled the GPS off it's holder and put it in my bag.  The bathroom floor had just been mopped, it's grey tiles wet and the smell of Clorox hung thick in the air.  Two empty stalls and no hooks.  Hmmm...I  did the only thing I could, I threw my purse over my head, swinging from my neck I clutched it to my chest, relieved to see there was toilet paper in the holder.

As I walked to my car I felt encouraged I had made it this far without incident.  I plugged the GPS back in, Susie, sounding a bit irritated, blared "recalculation" as I backed out of the parking lot.

There is no great punch line to this story, just triumph over fear.  I arrived happily to my waiting daughter and grandson.  We hugged and kissed.  I took Milo into my arms and exclaimed, "I did it!  I did it!"