A blog that was supposed be made up of bits about cab rides and blurbs about beauty products but, instead, is about other things.


I Passed Fresh Kills, But I Couldn't Hold My Nose, Because I Had To Keep My Hands On The Wheel And I Was Sort Of Holding My Breath Already Anyway

It seems that my family thinks that the way to cure anxiety attacks is to send me on long road trips alone and at night. They printed out directions, and added in handwritten notes, they promised it would be okay, and then they left me to find my way home. This wasn't when I was learning to drive, this was last night. I cried, and my hands are still sort of stuck in the position I held them in while gripping the steering wheel the entire ride, but I'm home, and I didn't take anti-anxiety pills because I was more worried about them making me fall asleep at the wheel than I was about finding my way. I guess my family won.
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