Sometimes, I just literally make “excuses” so I can drive around. Like, I can buy bread on foot within the next block, but then I’d drive a few kilometers for it. Especially now sans the usual traffic (one benefit of the pandemic).
Upon ignition, on the driver’s seat, I’m at the helm, I take full control and go where I will. Once the wheels roll, I take rein on shifting the gears while revving it as I please. Steer to the left, to the right or hit the brakes as needed. All while sound-tripping from my CD stack according to my mood. Hence, I am master.
Real life isn’t like that though. You can’t just avoid bumps and potholes, floor it or stop when it gets too much to handle. Or play it according to your tune.
Maybe that’s why driving is therapeutic for me.
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