Life is a Sidewalk

... and I (don't really) want to walk it all day long.

No, that's not entirely true. I like walking, I really do. But not when I want to get somewhere fast. Like when it's 2 p.m. and I still haven't eaten lunch yet and I'm just leaving campus. I don't want to spend 10 minutes walking home. I want to be there NOW, preferably with a bagel covered in peanut butter en route from the plate to my mouth.

Plus I miss the sensation of driving, of crawling into that seductively secure - seemingy aluminum box, turning on the radio, and pressing my foot against the acelerator. I miss flying past store windows. I've had enough of creeping along with enough time to examine every item displayed. I miss passing other cars on the highway. I'd rather grip the wheel in my own two hands than sit in the passenger seat, which I do now only once a week if I'm lucky enough to be headed in the same direction at the same time as one of my roommates.

I told you so, certain people will say, but owning my own car just isn't in the stars right now. Not enough money, not enough need, and really not even enough desire to cancel out all the headaches car ownership causes. But I wouldn't mind my own set of wheels once in a while. It's one of those classic American fantasies, to be out on the open road, with nothing but possibilities paving the way from here out into the great unknown...