Driving through oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-die fog is one of my favorite things. It’s thick and creamy and gray and dreamy.

Give me a few passengers and I love it even more. I’ll scream during every turn of the tour out of sheer joy and excitement. When am I ever up that early with actual people to share being up that early with? But this morning I was by myself so I kept quiet and got lost.

I thought about leadership. It was scary out there but it was ok because there was a car ahead of me and I could play follow the leader…but I blinked and the leader disappeared. I was the new leader and didn’t know the neighborhood. I made some quick last minute labyrinthine turns and turned into a butthole on a seat warmer. The cars still followed.

Being alone in the fog in the wee am hours made me feel kinda sexy, like I was in my own movie scene, but I was just a young lady who couldn’t see what was in front of her or behind her at all times. I was never alone or sexy or in a movie.

Struggled up one hill to meet the clear sky and a parade of cars. All these other people got through it before I did. My situation wasn’t unique or special or dreamy or creamy. It was Wednesday morning mundane…

and I loved every second of it.