We of course didn't get out of Fairfax until about two hours later than planned. Given the nature of the trip (moving the entire life of two people across the country), I kinda figured that would be the case. Nerves were frayed from the lack of sleep the night before and the final bits of heavy lifting in the morning, and the beagles were not at all pleased with being packed up into a car. We successfully got on the road, though, and then everything was going really pretty well. Sailed around the Beltway without encountering anything that anybody from the DCMA would call traffic, got through Maryland, and then the first official kink in my plans showed up.
"Daniel really wants to go to Mount Rushmore," Kate told me somewhere around stop number 2 or 3. Daniel is Kate's brother who took the train in from Portland to help with the trip westward.
"Does he know that's in South Dakota?" I asked, because I remembered that she thought the Grand Canyon was on the way.
"Yeah. He wants to go there."
My freakout reflex immediately kicked in. South Dakota was not in the plan. North Dakota was in the plan. More importantly, visiting Jamie in Wisconsin was in the plan, and that was really the one stop on the trip that was actually important to me. In the midst of my freaking out, I didn't think we could possibly do both. My understanding of Midwestern highways is extremely limited, so when Daniel said something about taking 80 out of Chicago, I didn't remember that 80 runs with 90 there and we would essentially be following the exact same path. Just the idea of a change to the plan had me panicking a little.
As it turned out, we could easily have done both. However, I got an email from Jamie while we were at the bar telling me that everything that could possibly gone wrong with her move to her new apartment had, and she wasn't going to be able to make it. So...it was a panic for nothing.
A lot of my panics are for nothing, I think. I get all wound up about what I think is true, or what I think people are saying, and immediately begin to freak based on completely erroneous assumptions. It usually comes up because I find other people scary and assume that they hate me and everything I think or say or do. Once I get all upset about what I think is true, I find it really hard to calm back down when I realize what is actually true--I get locked in this terrible guilt/shame spiral over being wrong and possibly upsetting someone else, and then I just want to go hide in a closet somewhere.
I have survived this latest episode of be wrong/have someone else be right/have things not go according to plan, however. We all got a decent night's sleep here in Perrysburg, Ohio, and now we're ready to truck on across the northern midwest. We're going to make this a longer driving day since we have no need to stop in Wisconsin Dells, and we are now Mount Rushmore bound. Huzzah! Look at me being flexible! Clearly the yoga is helping.
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