LIFE ON THE INSIDE
Always an Adventure
Until recently, I’d never driven to Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. I have plenty of practice getting to and from Dulles, but Reagan? Isn’t that kinda far away? And doesn’t getting there involve lots of — eek! — highways? And, honestly, since it is and it does, isn’t such a trip the perfect excuse to call an Uber?
Should have called an Uber.
Mr. Lucky and I loaded our stuff for our Orlando trip in the car, put the destination in Waze, and took off — early — for the airport. Things were going well. I was only slightly sweating with anxiety, Mr. Lucky’s motor mouth had yet to kick in, and the Waze lady was happily barking directions.
Note the word happily.
We were on 66 East and, since Mr. Lucky has an EZ Pass, I decided to take the express lane. Why? Why? I hate highways, why in God’s name would I choose to drive even faster on one? Why? Because recently I’d been on the express lane with Rob. He was driving. It looked so easy!
Ha.
At first, it’s was ok. Pretty cool, even. We were moving along at a great clip, there were far fewer vehicles around us scaring the daylights out of me, and both of us were like, “Oh yeah, we’ve got this! Reagan Airport is our bitch, baby! Let’s put some music on!”
