Morning Commute

As I've said before, carpooling to work with your boyfriend is the best way to insure that you never have to go more than 12 without being kissed.

JR comes over about 6:30, and while I'm getting out of the shower and dressed, he packs my lunch for me. It's nice, because I buy only stuff I like from the store, but I never know what day I'm going to get what. It's like getting presents off a gift registry. Safe surprises. He does all the little things, like opening my living room blinds and making sure the blanket is off the birdcage.

I say "'Bye gang, I'm going to work, I'll be back tonight!" to my pets as I leave. I have no idea why I feel compelled to do this.

We head out, passing BJ and Steve, my neighbors, sitting out on their porches, drinking coffee and chatting with each other. We make small talk while we pass. I heart them so.

As I've told some of you, I have a very mild form of obsessive compulsive disorder. I tend to obsess a bit on random things when I'm stressed. So as sort of a preventive measure, I give myself something fairly harmless to obsess on. So I count Ford Focuses as we drive. I have Focus if you wondering why that car. I used to count volkswagon bugs as a kid, because I loved the Herbie movies. So I count my car, in the parking lot. I swear, if I drive my car twice a week it's unsual. Someday I'm going to sell it and no one is going to believe the mileage.
Anyway, I see about twenty Focuses on an average ride to work. About seven of those are ones that I know where they will be. I've begun knowing their schedules. Once the grey Focus that was always in a parking lot near my work was gone for two days, and I was worried that something had happened to the owner.

JR always hold my hand when he drives. I love that. We sit, often silent, listening to the radio, and chatting if we feel like it. It's nice to have a quiet hour with my honey every morning. As we drive, there are certain things that I look for, as if to make sure they are all still there.

I look for the low, spanish style building on the corner that has all the lovely shade trees, and stands empty and unused, to see if anyone has bought it or is going to do anything with it.

I look for the back alley that somehow in the middle of suburban El Cajon manages to look like a country backstreet, with dirt paving and flowers growing along the sides. I have this childish idea that if I turned off my morning route down it, it would be like a magic portal to another reality. I like my life, but it's nice to feel I have that option every morning.

I look for the birds that nest on the freeway over-pass to see if they are still there.

I look for the plant on the side of the on-ramp that blooms with flowers that look exactly like yellow tissue paper.

I look for some of my favorite houses on the side of Mt Helix, to make sure they haven't been painted some ridiculous color.

As we pass the car lot that used to a roller skating rink when I was a kid, I remember the days when liking a boy meant racing past him on my white roller skates with pink laces, to the sounds of Amy Grant's "Baby, Baby" being blasted through crummy speakers.

As we pass San Diego State University, I imagine the main building as a huge spanish style mansion, and decide that my room would be the small one on the end with the arched window and balcony.

As we pass a construction site, I check to see if they've cut down any more of the beautiful eucalyptus and palm trees that surround it.

Then we pass the San Diego river. There was no competition amoung rivers for the name 'San Diego river', as it is San Diego's only river. And *gasp*, there is actually water in it this year.

When we pass the horse stables, I look to see if the horses have been fed yet. It's easy to tell, if they have, their heads are all down, eating contentedly. If not, they all are staring unmovingly at the hay barn, their bodies lined up toward it like needles on a compass.

Then we pass the military base, passing a big runway field. As we pass the field, I often see the runway lights on for a incoming plane, and as I come even with the runway, for one second I feel a pull down it, like a rock in a slingshot, or a bubble skirting the edge of a whirlpool. The next second I'm past it, and I feel as though I've escaped something I'm not exactly sure I wanted to escape.

Then we pass the trees on a building's front lawn, that had their lower branches pruned off, leaving knots in the bark that look exactly like eyes. I wink at them. One of these days I'm sure they'll wink back.

Then we pass the other corner of the military base, where the running track runs along the road. I see the new trainees practicing in their little green shorts, and always that one girl that is determinded to show up the boys, running in the front group.

Then we pass my favorite thing. A shop that sells sheepskin seat covers has three little wooden sheep, covered in sheepskin, that they put out on the front lawn. I wave every morning and say, "Good morning, Sheepies!" while JR shakes his head and regrets not making sure I was sane before falling in love with me.

The we round the corner with the glass pyramid building, and down into a valley of eucalyptus trees, then we pull into the company parking lot and I'm here.