Driving Miss Crazy. Ok, that is the most hilarious blog title ever. It’s actually getting less and less funny as time passes, and I would change it, but titling my posts is my worst skill. Next to softball.

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Did you know…it took me three tries to pass my driving test?

It’s true.  And, by the third attempt, I was so convinced I was never going to pass and would have to be driven around, by my dad, for the rest of my life, I didn’t even look cute that day.

And then I passed.

For five years I had to live with a license photo of me dressed like Gwen Stefani from the Spiderwebs video.

One of my many ill advised fashion phases, and I’m talking about you, gigantic Blossom hat and Brenda Walsh bangs.

So anyways, my point being, driving a car has never been something I am particularly good at.

I mean, I don’t run over dogs, or slam into pedestrians or anything.   But, when I get behind the wheel…I panic.  PANIC.

I can’t focus, and the other cars are super threatening, and the semis scare the shit out of me, and the next thing you know I am hyperventilating and in full blown panic attack mode.

Which sounds awesome, right?

Well, apparently, it is.  So much so, my death wish husband made me share the driving duties with him on our trip to Asheville, North Carolina this past week.

On my leg of the trip?

Some insanley huge bridge that connected Ohio to Kentucky.

Oh great, a combination of, like, three of my fears.  Driving.  Deep water.  Heights.

The trifecta of fuuucccckkkk.

And why do you even need a bridge to connect two states?!  It’s 2009.  Can’t we just use robots to fill in all the water with dirt so nobody drowns or gets eaten by sharks?

It’s like our government wants us to die.

So, I start to go over this bridge, which has a million lanes of traffic, and I start to sweat, and my hands get all tingly, and then…boom…I have completely forgotten how to drive, and I am all, Oh my God Andy, take the wheel, I FORGOT HOW TO DRIVE, and he is all, you need to relax, and I am like, I CAN’T RELAX WHEN THE OTHER CARS ARE TRYING TO PUSH ME OVER THE SIDE OF THE BRIDGE.

And I start sobbing, and like, I don’t now, convulsing almost.

I am like, listen, you need to call my mom, in case something happens, and Andy is like, stop being ridiculous, you have like 500 more feet, and I am like, we are not gonna make over this FUCKING BRIDGE, CALL MY FUCKING MOM, IF I DON’T SAY GOODBYE TO HER BEFORE WE DIE I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU, and he’s like, what is wrong with you that you function like this, and I am like I NEVER SHOULD HAVE MARRIED YOU.

And then, we were over the bridge.

And things got quiet.  For a super long time.

Like, an entire state.

And then, we saw a Shoneys, and I pulled in, because I clearly needed to get my shit together, and what says mental health better than all you can eat sausage gravy?

We watched the boys play with their jello, and Gigi play with the spoon I gave her to wave around, because I am an awesome parent, and who doesn’t like shiny things???

I felt foolish.

I told him that I didn’t mean to say I wish I had never married him, and he was like, I knew you were psychotic when I married you, so I knew what I was getting into, so I was all, awww, that’s sweet.

And then he got me a piece of cherry pie and handed me my bottle of xanax.

We were about to drive through the Smokey Mountains.

Have you ever seen those things?  They are huge, and I am petty sure we are either going to fall off a cliff, or some gigantic rock is going to fall onto our car, smooshing us all, and everyone will know how fat I am, because I am wearing the jeans I haven’t cut the tag out of yet.

I never plan for this shit.