So, So, So Close
I’m having a lousy day. I don’t know why. In the grand scheme of things, this day won’t even register as a blip. I hope. I cannot convey to you how much I want to get to Arizona and how afraid I am something will screw it up. Even now, when we’re only Arizona minus five days.
To give you an idea of how neurotic I am, Glenn made a map to get to Arizona. He wanted to save it as “Arizona or Bust,” and I went beserk. Tears were shed. Voices were shrill. Because if you knew me, knew my life, it would be just my luck if it were bust. I told him to call it “Arizona: Mission Accomplished.”
Today, though, the Jeep went to get fixed, and the guy brought it back saying he can’t do it: it’s too rusted. It’s been rattling but chugging along for months and months, so Glenn thinks it will be fine.
The mechanic says it could be fine. At some point, it will break, and we will be dead in the road. That could happen a week from now or even six months from now.
As you know, I have been neurotic about the Jeep for months. I don’t know why. I just have this fear that it’s going to break down and we’re not going to get to Arizona.
Since I’m being so confessional about my neuroticism, may I point out how nerve-wracking it is to drive with your HOUSE down the highway? I mean, one slip of attention, one slip of anything, and you have no house.
I can’t wait to be in Arizona. It feels so far away…
Is this what cold feet is like? Or is this craziness?
Natasha Fondren is a writer traveling the U.S. in a camper with her four cats and husband. She spends summers camped near her niece, because, well, her niece is her favorite girl on the planet.