On to rush hour. Oh, I didn't mention that his flight landed at 5:17pm? It did. He's driving, and I'm trying not to freak out. I have what one friend refers to as HSS. Hyper-Startle Syndrome. Since I retired I seem to be more sensitive to the fact that the guy in the car in front of us slams on his brakes at the last possible moment and the gal who is in the car three feet behind us is going 150 mph while texting. It's worse when someone else is driving. I have control issues. Sometimes it's just better to close my eyes or do pretty much anything else except look out the front window.
We had planned to have dinner at this little Italian place that is close to home. It's small, it's dark, it's quiet, the food's good. It's a great place to relax and just enjoy being together. There's smoke in the air. Wait...smoke? Just a few miles from the restaurant we come to the realization that rush hour seems to have never let up. It has in fact gotten worse. We are not moving. Maybe we should turn on the radio and see what is going on. We were still not really going very far, but we were at least busy. There were several news stations to check with, Facebook, texting and couple of phone calls to make. A jet fuel tanker had exploded when it collided with a Jeep. Amazingly no-one was hurt!! Unfortunately, it looked like dinner was going to have to be plan B.
Happily we discovered that we could still make it to our original destination and make our way home using an alternate route. Dinner was shared with family in Illinois via text. They were at dinner too. We finally made it home, and after a little unpacking and a call to Hubby's family we collapsed into bed early. Really early. We were both asleep before ten. Normalcy is good.
Gratitude for:
- Hubby's home
- Hubby's home
- Did I mention - Hubby's home!
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