Sunday morning, 6:00 a.m. phone call from my sister:" I haven't slept in three days, but if I take a sleeping pill I'll be out for ten hours and I won't be able to fininsh packing...I've had the flu and have been throwing up...I can't get ahold of my friend with the pickup truck to help me move my entertainment center and I have to be out of here by tomorrow...but I haven't closed out my bank account yet. What am I supposed to do? Follow you? Our dad yelled at me...and everyone thinks I'm a flaaaaaaake."
Me, in my calmest, no-you're-not-a-crazy-lunatic voice: "Um...no one thinks you're a flake. Did you take one of your little pills? (my sister has a history of serious anxiety attacks - one that required a trip to the hospital in an ambulance, which was the main reason we were driving together as she moved her life south).
Tuesday morning, we met at a gas station in Lansing, Michigan located halfway between us (within about twenty seconds of one another). She had given her cat a tranquilizer to calm her for the sixteen hour car ride, which seemed only to work as a bladder relaxer, as her carrier was soon flooded with cat urine. We decided the cat should ride with me, since I'm calmer (or as my friend said, "the lesser of two fruitcakes") and perhaps the MEOWING wouldn't be so incessant. This worked only in theory, since my ears were bleeding by the second hour.
Our trip was relatively uneventful as we arrived in Bowling Green, Kentucky to stop for the night.
Mistake #1: we stayed in a hotel that had a bar.
Mistake #2: the bar closed before we could finish our last drinks so I suggested she shove those last two in her purse so we could take them to our room. I think I was being a smartass, since she had ruined two phones using this specific method of drink removal in the past, but she grabbed the drinks anyway and killed another innocent phone.
We got off to a late start Wednesday, but I wasn't too concerned since I didn't have to be home until the following morning by 7:00 (I had to take my son to school and go to work). We ate, hung out at rest stops, exchanged cds and puttered our way south.
Murphy's Law dictates that her anxiety attack should occur at the most inconvenient moment possible. Crossing the Alabama State border, still having seven hours of dark, construction-coned road ahead of us, was it. She eventually calmed down, but could no longer drive so we found a hotel room and picked up some food. I gave her my cell phone, took her cat, and resumed my drive home - pulling in the driveway at 4:00 a.m. I was just in time to round up all my cats that were sitting out in the driveway (my ex-husband had stayed here for a week and decided to make them all outdoor cats - GRRRRR!), sleep for an hour, take a shower, and get to work. I'm definitely going to need a few days off to recover from this vacation.