So, hubby and I were on our way to the Hawthorne District from the Lloyd Center the other day. I was driving (I always drive, too many reasons - one of which is, in fact, that I am a bit of a control freak - thank you). For those who have never driven through Laurelhurst, click the link to get the whole picture, it can be maddening. Fortunately, I knew approximately where I was headed. Hubby did not. I was making some interesting street choices when he pipes up:
Hubby: Do you actually know where you are going, or are you picking streets at random?
Me: Why do you say that?
Hubby: That last turn was a bit too casual.
Me: Oh. (laughter until I was crying, still driving, mind you)
Sometimes the Heavy Metal theory of driving is appropriate. You know your perspective is %$&^-ed, so just drive like you are sober. Better yet, the Star Wars theory of driving, just fly casual.
Good news, we got where we were going. And I didn't pee my pants.
Now if I can just find the new camera (yes, new, hubby dropped the old one with the telescoping lens out and now it won't even turn on). Sigh.
