But would we survive several months in an RV together?

I am actually writing this on Saturday evening as I cannot post it yet for fear BT in MTL would read it and know that we are actually not in Toronto but by LB in Ottawa. DW and I are headed into MTL (Hudson actually) to surprise her family for their son's third birthday party. We said we were simply not going to be able to make it, but we decided "screw housework and all that other shit that is piled up waiting for us" and were going to visit family. Period.

Anyhow, this has been a rather rough week mentally for work. I have been going mental with the vast level of idiocy we employ as simple common sense is soooo very absent. I also have been constantly aghast at how big, monopolistic companies have their heads shoved so far up their butts that they cannot execute the simple tasks anymore without tripping over the left over enema that they left inserted on the last attempt to clear their thoughts. But, I digress.

Friday was especially difficult as a record number of high priority, and thus highly visible, tickets came through. In fact, I was working on a couple right through the NBA playoff game we were watching. Due to this, and the lack of sleep as a result, it simply made no sense to leave that night as planned. We both fell to sleep and DW, as the poor woman often has to do, went to bed after several failed attempts to waken me from my deep sleep. I eventually got up around 1:30AM and tried to get a few things done before we left that needed doing. Of course, that meant when DW came down into the dungeon around 5:30AM, I was still up and used any time for sleep up as we would soon be leaving.

The toll of that erractic sleep pattern of mine meant some admittedly groggy driving. DW, having had a scary traffic incident one night on the 416 enroute to visit her cousin, is very skittish now about sleeping in the vehicle at all; driving or passenging. So, when I was droopy eyed and not keeping perfectly straight lines (no aggressive swerving or heavy braking to avoid an 18-wheeled semi or anything like that), she panicked and hit me. After lecturing her that the brightest thing to do to someone driving (especially if you suspect that they may actually be sleeping) was to hit them, I explained that I actually was still awake and doing fine behind that light-coloured four-door Honda. Since she could not read my retinal signature clearly, she thought it was time for me to get some shut-eye and let her drive.

So, we pulled into Newcastle's service station, popped into Timmy's (Tim Horton's for the rest of you), grabbed some hot chocolate, a caramel apple fritter and a carrot cake donut for me, and a non-toasted, sesame seed, buttered bagel for DW. You just cannot find good help these days as DW stood for a longer than necessary time in line only to have doofus read the order and toast the bagel anyhow. Good wife of mine did what any person in my family would do; she let him finish doing what he was doing, and when he was about to hand her that toasted bagel, enlightened him to his error. Bagel corrected and nifty tourist book full of coupons in handed later, and we were back on to the road. I was now feeling the effects of needed sleep so I took full advantage of DW's driving. She still marvels at how fast and how sound I can sleep in a moving vehicle. I keep telling her that sleeping in a moving vehicle is easy. Chances are if you get into a serious accident, you would have been killed before you were consciously awake, so now worries. :)

I was awoken by jerky car movement around Trenton's service station. I do not remember if DW said anything as I was fast back to sleep shortly afterwards. I stirred again around Gananoque and marveled at the time she was making, while falling right back to sleep. I woke up again, this time for good, as DW GENTLY shook my arm till I had awoken. She explained that she was at her end and needed me to drive. I must admit, and she knew, I was not happy as I tend to do 90% of the driving to anywhere these days. Partly because I like to drive and partly because she does not like to drive in the snow, the rain, the traffic and the dark.

OK, no problem, where the heck are we? Outside of Brockville?!?! Holy crap woman! What numbers were you clocking? DW protested that she kept around the 120Km/h area and I was simply imaging or exaggerating. I challenged the 120 mark but left it alone; know one's battles a wise married man once told me. So, getting awake, I sat up, put the chair back into an upright position, and we made our way to the next service station when all of a sudden there was this loud sound. What was that? That little strip they dig into the side of the road to wake up sleeping drivers and alert them to the imminent possibility that they will die a fiery, painful death if they continue in the direction of the concrete barrier or gully/ditch they were currently aiming towards.

I had to laugh. I point out to DW that while she thought my droopy eyed, swerving self was falling asleep on the road, I did NOT run onto the rumble strip. She tried to protest, but my point was made. Rumble strip indeed. So, outside of Brockville, we popped into the Esso in pouring rain, hit the head (washroom to the rest of you) and got back on the road. Of note, some people are still not teaching their kids (or themselves) that the little water taps are for washing one's hands AFTER you have sufficiently played with yourself at the urinal. I witness one kid for sure, and a suspected adult, leave the peeing area immediately after dipping the ladle. After I wash my hands, I used my jacket to open the door. I was not eating now but the thought of someone else's pee being wiped across the Roo's steering wheel started to make me ill.

I SMS the LB that we are near Brockville, change the drive to All-wheel (lots of rain, and I was driving now), and headed out to finish the last leg of our journey. Granted, we are driving a six-cylinder SUV of fair bulk, in four-wheel drive mode, so gas gets sipped a bit faster. I did not care, I wanted to get in, see the fam, and get some rest. So, TR and I, as cohesive a pair as DW and I, hit the road, ate asphalt and scared the shit out of some A4s, Jettas, and this sorry ass in a Celica. It was not long before we were in Orleans and coming off on Jean D'Arc.

I have always thought of winning some money or living off the avails of a sold invention or website, and touring the continent with the family for a few months. DW is going to have to lengthen her driving time if that is going to happen. There is only so much space in an RV and it is best not filled with tension. And sure, I will get more sleep in the process as well.

Ciao.

(EDITOR's NOTE: The LB and SIL and nephew are doing well, though LB was not feeling 100% at the time and the nephew was a bit sick as well. The SIL made this really cool chili that stands on its own as it is completely different than the one DW makes. LB, I still want that recipe!

The Montreal surprise went well, it was a great birthday party for the little lad, the families on both sides are funny and my kind of people, and we got a bonus as well. My Goddaughter brought her boyfriend and, since no one knew we were going to be there, was at once elated and scared at what I would do to the boy. I must say, he took the ribbing, and the threats of bodily harm, quite well considering they were coming from multiple angles and multiple times. I made him understand that I treat as my own and I WILL hurt him if necessary. I think he got the message clearly. Mission accomplished.)