Going on a Road Trip

Whenever I go on a road trip it's pretty much guaranteed to be a fun time. The morning of the trip I wake up at the crack of dawn, or eleven, whichever comes last, brush my teeth, and pack the car with food, supplies, and my front door so no one can pick the lock while I'm gone. After that it's just me and the open road. I never have a destination in mind, just a longing for more majestic scenery than I could ever want, more wildlife than I could ever count, and less ditches that I can't ever get out of.

As I drive I like to make sure I'm taking in all of the sights by keeping my speed at the posted limit, just so long as the posted limit is no more than 15. Any faster and the entire landscape would be nothing but a blur. Other cars often line up behind me and start blaring their horns wildly. It's great how people are still getting so excited over nature. I just honk back in agreement. Some people even start getting irritated and yell things like, "Maybe we should just get out and walk!" And I know exactly how they feel. It's so beautiful you would almost rather walk. But then it's irritating because there's no place to park your car.

Eventually, as I continue my road trip, I'll come to a scenic viewpoint that I just have to stop and enjoy. It doesn't matter whether it's a majestic mountain, a grand waterfall, or a quaint carcass. I love all of nature equally. Once I've pulled over, I walk to the edge of the roadway, look both ways before crossing, and get hit by a car as I cross. Luckily I always park on really sharp turns where cars can't go very fast. The driver usually says something like, "Really great place to cross, buddy." I just thank him and continue across the road where I get hit by another car. If it wasn't for this sharp turn to slow traffic down I could have some serious injuries.

After I've explored everything there is to see in the area I go back across the road, get hit a couple more times, and hop in my car and head to the hospital. By this point my head is throbbing, my neck hurts, and my foot doesn't seem to want to stay on. As I drive I like to make sure I continue enjoying all of the beautiful scenery around me. It's funny how even though you've just driven through an area not an hour ago, it can still feel as if it's the first time. You get to enjoy the whispering pines and bubbling brooks all over again. I guess that's just one of the many gifts of massive head trauma.

Eventually I make my way to what I think is the hospital. It's hard to say since I've been driving with my head in my lap. I open the door, spill onto the ground, and begin my exciting crawl through the parking lot. As I crawl I like to think about how nice the road trip has been. I've gotten to see some amazing things, I've talked to other nature fans, and now I'm getting up close and personal with mother nature herself. I like it so much that I decide to start dragging my head along the ground. Now I can feel, smell, and taste mother nature with my face instead of just seeing it. Besides, my head is getting pretty heavy and my neck doesn't seem to want to work anymore. No matter. As long as I have the sun at my back, the breeze through my hair, and the crows pecking at my protruding skull I know all is right with the world.

After awhile I realize the crawl is too far to finish in one day and I decide to take a nap instead. Not long after I've fallen asleep, however, I'm suddenly awoken by someone yelling, "What are you doing laying in the middle of a field??" And I know he's right. I should be up exploring. But it just gets hard with all of the convulsions and no feet. As he gets a closer look at me he starts to sound all panicked and says things about needing to get help, but I'm too tired to deal with his problems so I go back to sleep.

When I wake up for the second time I find myself in the hospital all bandaged up and on life support. I hear the doctors saying things about never walking again or being able to feed myself. What a relief. The last time I was here they didn't think I was going to make it at all, and look at me now. It's funny how doctors are always wrong. Maybe they can get it right on my next road trip, but I doubt it.