I was recently reminded that I am not the ideal road-tripping companion.
My husband has gobs of these photos. All exactly the same. He’s been taking them for years as he diligently drives my ass around. His plan is to create one of those collages- you know, the ones that create a picture of a car sleeper out of many tiny pictures of a car sleeper?
I am an expert at car sleeping. My favorite kind is the dangerous kind. The kind where you would definitely kick yourself in the face if you got into a fender bender, and probably be paralyzed if it was a real crash. This is where I place my extended legs up on the dash, lean the seat back, let the jaw drop and hit it! This isn’t an option for most people- those of you with normally sized limbs. This really isn’t an option for me, either, because Eric gets really mad when I do it. Something about having to pry my toenails out of my eyeballs in the event of a mishap… drama queen alert.
To be honest, I’m not the car sleeper I used to be. I’m in the car right now! AWAKE! I was a pro back when I was slightly anemic. Also, a good bout of Seasonal Affective Disorder a great car sleeper makes! Finally, exercise tends to energize, which will totally hose your skills… And your husband’s stupid collage.