It’s been a mini earthquake in my brain to accommodate thinking about driving. It’s not easy. Especially when you’re 35 and your total driving experience prior wouldn’t amount to 24 hours.
The day after we got the car K made me drive all over the place, mainly our Meals on Wheels route so that I would be comfortable doing it alone if he was working. That first day I drove 75 miles over the course of 6 hours. It was great–liberating even.
Then came the first day that K left for work and I was going to spend most of the day alone. I dilly-dallied around the house for hours doing laundry, cleaning the bathroom, answering emails… I felt so much pressure to make good use of my day. To take the car and go do some ‘good’ with it, when all I really wanted to do was focus on my chores.
The way I felt made me realize how different my days have been when K isn’t around and that even though I wished so badly that I could get around on my own that there were parts of it that I looked forward to. Days being home for 14+ hours alone, far away from anything and anyone became almost an imposed meditation. Not that I really produced anything (aside from this blog) but I had found ways to be comforted by my routine.
That’s different now. Now there’s really nothing stopping me from being part of this place outside of the confines of our house and it being part of me. That is, if it was mobility holding me back. I guess we’ll see.