Doug loves the Interstate. He will hop on and back off the Interstate just to travel from one exit to the next one. I hate the Interstate. I am directionally impaired. The less complicated the route, the greater the likelihood that I will not get lost, but the Interstate still makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Today I had to take Sarah to a SibShop at TSD. I love the cottages on the TSD campus. Cottage is a bad description for the spacious, multi-bedroomed houses. Doug and I would happily work on campus if we could live in one of those perfect for big family buildings. Oops. I was talking about the Interstate. On the way to TSD, I had an 18 wheeler right in front of me. Too close in front of me. I couldn’t slow down though. There was another big rig behind me. I couldn’t change lanes or get off the Interstate because, you already know why – there was a semi to the right and the left of my tiny little minivan. Doug thinks it’s fun to travel like that. “We’re getting great gas mileage.” Not me. I am riding in the blind spot of Optimus Prime and I want to get out of his way. I think I’ll pick Sarah up via the long, winding back roads. More space to breathe back there.
I wish mine enjoyed the car.
Cheers
Drive slower to begin with. Then you won’t have the semi in front of you and the one behind you will pass you.
Since I retired, I’ve been driving the speed limit. Very few people do so I don’t have to worry about the guy in front of me. And since I’m not in a hurry, there’s no need to keep up with traffic. It’s amazing what it has done to my driving stress level.
Plus a seventy mile trip only takes a few minutes longer when I’m going 70 instead of 75.
Cathy always drives the speed limit. The section of town she was in is bottle necked and usually congested.