Finding someone who tolerates my quirks and finds most of them endearing was hard enough.
Combining households, thus subjecting him to my neurotic OCD-ADD-informed organizational structures and unyielding design aesthetics, was fraught with the usual hiccups when any two people move in together.
(Okay, so not everyone has to deal with a partner who has OCD or ADD or both or squirrel!)
So. Deciding to drive across the country together hasn’t really seemed like a big deal.
I mean, sure. It’s across the country. Like, from here to there.
Over mountains, through woods, to a rusted-out bus in the middle of the Alaskan tundra.
At least about the bus.
We’ll have ups and downs and plenty of turnarounds and screaming matches with the GPS and little spats and possible tears as we pass through Oklahoma and Texas to New Mexico without Starbucks.
Still, we’ll have an amazing adventure. Something we’ve both wanted to do individually, but are now fortunate enough to do together.
And while I know that we’ll have plenty of moments that’ll make others pale in comparison, I’ll still savor the quiet moments, no matter how brief they’ll be.
Like the sun slowly warming the car.
Like me reaching over to rest my hand on his.
Like the exhilaration of passing into another state we’ve never visited.
Like eating great food at random holes-in-the-wall.
Like catching up with far-flung friends.
Like laughing at our fleabag accommodations along the way, and dreaming of the amazingly beautiful, swanky California hotel rooms that await us.
Like making a peanut butter sandwich on the side of the road while contemplating a visit to the Grand Canyon.
Like making macabre references to Thelma & Louise.
Like forgetting all of the work-related bullshit that’s been weighing us down.
Like sleeping in until 7.
Like a threesome in The Standard’s rooftop pool with Joseph Gordon-Levitt or Ashton Kutcher. (Hey, it could happen!)
Like enjoying life a little bit.
Maybe I’m less concerned about the what-ifs because I’ll have a copilot.
A copilot with a printed Powerpoint presentation of our trip.
(Yes, I’m a lucky bastard.)
Regardless, I know we’ll be fine. We’ll make it work. Because we’ve made far more stressful things work before.
And this time around, we’ll have the wind behind us, the music blaring, and the knowledge that we’ll be free for a few weeks calming our nerves like a vodka tonic.
With nothing but open road ahead of us and a dust cloud in the Prius’s rear-view.