One of my cousins just turned 40. His wife invited me to come up to a surprise party for him, and I said yes.
(It was only later that I saw that it was also Easter weekend.)
So yesterday I drove north to Massachusetts. It was the weekend, so New York was stressfully busy, but not bogged down. I was a little disheartened to hit the stretch of 95 in Connecticut where the sign said there were delays for the next 6 exits… the last time I went north similar signs were posted the length of the trip. But in this case, it was only the one. The first rest stop on the New England Expressway was closed for renovations, with the next one some 13 miles later. But that 13 miles was over just as the bog-down finished, and it was packed with people who, like me, probably would have liked to rid themselves of the morning coffee/orange juice/morning beverage of choice. I pushed on to the next.
And all along the way I watched the traffic the other direction, and thought how much I wanted to get as close to home as possible, as early in the day as possible on Sunday.
The trip was long, but it was good. The party was good. It was great to see my cousin, and catch up with some of the other family. And the trip back was good too.
And I pumped gas for the first time. Had to happen, yo. I could look at that as losing the battle to go my whole life without having to pump it for myself. (Thank you, New Jersey!) Instead, I choose to look at it as a new experience.