I slide into the driver’s seat and set about adjusting. The closeness of the seat to the wheel, the mirrors, the ever so important radio stations.
And then, I smile.
This is my time. The next 45 minutes are mine. Me time. Yes, the next 45 minutes are all about me. Because for the next 45 minutes, I’ll go with my own flow. I’ll chose the radio station, I’ll control the temperature, I’ll determine the route.
I pull out of my parking spot and navigate out onto the road, letting my feet decide what kind of commute this will be. Usually we go with laid back, unhurried, relaxed. Uptight drivers do not get to their destination any faster. They just feel more tense once they arrive.
I let the sounds of the radio wash over my mind. I let myself become engrossed in celebrity gossip, the mindless stories that contribute very little to my day but provide that little bit of brain candy that we all need. I turn up my favorite songs and, yes, I sing. Out loud. Quite loud. Like I’m auditioning for American Idol. I get that golden ticket every time.
A while ago I remember hearing a mom complain that her only me-time came during her commute. She didn’t feel that was sufficient. She felt cheated, that she was living a life devoid of a time just for her.
I get that. Sure, I’d love for some me time spent curled up on the couch with a book or stretched out in a bubble filled tub soaking my tensions away.
And, on rare occasions, I do get that. An hour of reading or a long bubble bath, they do happen.
But I need more consistent, more reliable me time. A series of moments to decompress and enjoy the quiet and complete control. And I take it where I can get it. In my car.
Where do you find your me time?