Logan and I are planning a trip to Texas at the end of this month. No sweat; we've done it several times.
Only difference is that this time, we're driving. Alone.
I was full of bravado when I first made these plans. After all, I used to drive home alone from college all the time, accompanied only by a feline companion who slept in the back window most of the way.
That was a seven-hour trip. Sure it wasn't as long of a jaunt, but I was much younger and had less driving experience.
Or so I've been telling myself.
This trip will be 17 hours, nine of which will be on my own. We're going to pick up Aunt Barb in East Texas, and she'll make the rest of the trip with us.
It's that initial stretch between my house and hers that is starting to get me a little worried. But it'll be fine, I'm sure.
By the way, that's not my car in the above photo. I'd never use duct tape to secure an item to the roof of my vehicle. Packing tape is better and much less expensive.