Road Trip

One of the appeals of the old fashioned road trip is, of course, the temporary illusion of being able to outrun whatever is wrong in your ordinary life. . . . or maybe just to abandon and outrun ordinary life itself for a little while.

That's what I'm feeling right now. I have a day and a half of work left, then a dentist appointment, and then I start driving, and I keep going for more than 400 miles. The fact that a significant spiritual transition will be part of the journey is a profound part of the appeal, but right now I'd be happy just to be going.

On the road. By myself. Long, long trip.

I'm ready.

I Can Haz Break Now Pleeze??

I'm supposed to go on a road trip day after tomorrow and my car is in the shop. It runs, but it makes funny ticking sounds when I use the accelerator -- and it almost stalls out when I put it in reverse when I first start it.

There's something wrong with the cylinders. The valves are not closing/sealing completely. The mechanic has declined to tell me that it would be okay to drive 450 miles and back before repairs are done; he -- understandably -- does not want to be held responsible if I end up on the side of the road somewhere in central Oregon.

So not only am I facing yet another bill for car repairs, I'm going to have to borrow my father's truck for the trip, which is going to increase the cost due to the higher gas consumption.



I could use a morale boost here, folks.
Anyone have any wildly outrageous good wishes, luck-changing charms, over-the-moon compliments, or other contributions to make me smile? Because this has not been a very good couple of days.