We left for the University at 9am. Apparently they realized half way there that "we would never make it in time," and so The Mr sped up to a hysterical 90mph. And then it started to rain. He weaved in and out of traffic: swearing at the truckers in his creepy controlled irate voice and having nasty one-way "conversations" with innocuous vehicles in his way; convinced the entire road was conspiring against us. After a devious quip about, "She is speeding up so i can't pass her. I don't have time to play games. I have somewhere to be. If she wants to play games then she can go to the bathroom and play with herself." (WTF?!?!?!?) The Guru finally chimed in, "Calm down," and then proceeded to needle him about making her late, (stopping for coffee, and piddling around.) I tightened my seatbelt and prepared myself for the inevitable rolling of the car. I wondered if my computer would survive the crash. I hoped D would get it along with my things in Hawaii: the 4 track recorder, my journals. I wouldn't want them to go to anyone else. Goodlord was i relieved when my feet finally touched the ground. In a panic, the Guru and i jumped out of the car to greet the coordinator who was standing outside the U waiting for us and bolted inside to the lecture hall. It was 12:oo, a half an hour late, but 5 minutes before she was scheduled to speak. She was frazzled but pulled it off like a charm.
Tomorrow we're "supposed" to leave at 630am. Oh my.
::breathe:::
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