You see, my husband and I decided to drive an insane number of miles to meet someone and pay them an absurd amount of money to get something we desperately wanted.
The mileage was 475. each way. As for the item and the amount, well, I’ll get to that.
Day one: Preparation
Husband has to go to the office for a few hours. As a freelance writer, I do not. In fact, I do no work at all outside of a single Almost Vegetarian blog entry. I love working for myself. I will be wracked with guilt all weekend.
While husband is away, healthy almost vegetarian that I am, I decided to prepare for our road trip so we would not be at the mercy of the fast food places. I trot over to the horribly-expensive-but-close-to-home gourmet grocery store to buy a few staples to take on our trip.
I buy several bottles of water, a couple of Panini, a hunk of cheese, bags of carrots and grapes, four bananas, one apple, one pear, two bottles of juice, and two containers of Greek yogurt with honey.
On the way home, I stop by the horribly-expensive-but-close-to-home gourmet sandwich shop and buy two sandwiches which I know will delight the husband.
I shove ice packs into the cooler, raid the fridge for extra treats to add to my store bought goodies (which, alas, only resulted in some old celery and a half opened packaged of Wasa crackers) and packed everything in. We are ready.
Husband comes home, cooler goes in the car, I go in the car.
I get out of the car and get that thing that I remembered, then pop back in.
And away we go.
We’re we in a competition we didn’t know about? Did we have more enemies than we knew about? Had we unwittingly made too many friends?
We don’t know. All we did know is that there was so many people going our way that it took us seven hours to cover 300 miles.
So we ate the grapes. Seedless, green, organic, and incredibly sweet and juicy, they started disappearing back home when I ate something like half of them as I packed (one for the cooler, one for me; one for the cooler, two for me). We polished off half the carrots, a juice, and a handful of the Wasa crackers which left us each with a fairy dusting of crumbs.
Boy, were we off our schedule.
We applauded ourselves for eating so healthy on the road as we dug into our sandwiches. The sandwich place had drenched mine in balsamic, which would have been lovely, but ten hours later, it made it all soggy. I ate half of mine. And became a water pusher. We both drank until we resembled water balloons. Then I made us drink some more.
I live in fear of dehydration.
. . . But all is not so well the next day when disappointment leads to junk food. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.