Commuting Solitude

There is something to be said for the solitude that comes with driving to work. It's a solitude that I find myself craving from time to time. Or every day.

My commutes have always been at least thirty minutes, and often closer to an hour. Most people hate that kind of commute. I suppose I did not know any different for quite a while.

I never envied those who had a quick walk or bus ride to work. In fact, I always felt bad for them for living so close to the office. There was never any excuse to not make it to work! And never any reason to not stay late, since you could be home in just a matter of minutes.

Oh, mind you, I never drove to work in silence. I had my morning show I faithfully listened to, and my afternoon show I listened to. Sometimes I cranked the radio. Sometimes I played cds. But more often than not, I listened to my radio "friends." By myself.

I could laugh or cry or groan after hearing a bad joke. I never had to break up a fight or worry that what I was listening to was inappropriate for my other passengers. I did not have to speak to anyone. I rarely was on my cell phone, save for a call home to say I was indeed on my way home. I could have a snack or a beverage without sharing. It was me time.

I have not yet found a way to replicate that me time since I have stopped working. Car time was
just that, car time. I could not really do anything else other than drive and listen. Now, even when the kids are all at school, and I have the house to myself, I still do not have that complete me time. For when I am at home, alone, laundry beckons, dirty dishes stare me in the face, clutter eyeballs me. There is always something to do.

I don't miss the stress, the frustrated clients, the never really being able to leave work at the office. But I miss my car time.