Yesterday, two days before we leave, we felt like we’d bitten off more than we could chew. It started with a small realization that we needed more packing space in the car. Within an hour it had spiraled into buyers remorse, homesickness (we hadn’t left yet), and general paralysis as we laid on an inflated air mattress in our living room thinking maybe we should just forget the whole thing and fly to Disney.
Some of the thoughts that emerged as we stared at each other with desperation in our eyes:
- I don’t think we can fit everything in the car. We should ditch the camping, leave the gear and only stay in hotels.
- Should we be driving longer legs and staying in places more nights rather than shorter drives and more stops?
- Maybe we should just put the whole thing off a few days so we have more time to plan.
- Are we spending too much money?
- Maybe we should just go to Disney. Epcot has all those countries we can visit.
- Let’s go for even longer. Boulder is supposed to be beautiful, let’s spend a week there.
- Amish country is nice.
- I should go get some beer.
This is natural, I’m sure, but knowing that didn’t help to subside the sudden crippling fear that we were doing this all wrong. It also probably didn’t help that we were coming off of a stomach bug and were generally wrecked physically and emotionally.
Today, the sun was out, we finished the packing, we loaded up the car for a test run and the remorse and doubt has all (mostly) turned to anticipation.
Tomorrow we hit the road to the bright lights of… New Jersey. You have to start somewhere.