Rear view mirror

True in my experience.

True in my experience.

Last week I wrote about my commute to work. Okay, it might have been more like whining than writing, but it’s my blog and I’ll whine if I want to.

It was all in good fun and some of you seemed to enjoy it. However, I unintentionally wounded my dear wife’s feelings a bit and need to make amends.

She felt like my blog title, Hell on Wheels, was misleading and might make unsuspecting folks think that she had forced me into making a 90 minute round trip commute each work day.

In actuality, the title refers to me and the crazy adventures I have inside my car and my head every day on I-40. You see, some days I can be hell on wheels.

And I gently reminded said dear wife that anyone who has met me for just five minutes would know that no one ever makes me do anything I don’t want to do. In fact, the mere idea of it makes me giggle.

Do I look like you could tell me what to do?

Do I really look like you could tell me what to do?

Anyway, I just want to make an addendum to last week’s post and note that each morning, my wife goes out and heats up my car so when I’m ready to leave my Soul is warm and toasty.

She walks me to my car (she leaves for work a few minutes later) and carries my coffee and gym bag while I schlep my work bag, lunch and other sundry other items I seem to need every day. (Note: Sundry is a fine word that should be used more often.)

No frost for me!

No frost for me!

That’s another snag about a long commute – you have to pack like you’re leaving for Europe because there’s no running home if you forgot something.

Then she stands in the doorway and waves sweetly as I drive out of sight.

And at the end of the day, that is why all roads lead to home.


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