Drunk exhaustion

I drove my daughter to college last week.

From Texas, it is a VERY long drive. Just under 19 hours, I didn’t plan to drive straight through. But that is exactly what happened.

We left our house at 6 am. It wasn’t exactly the early start I wanted, but it was still ok. We were trying something new this time, so we rented a car to drive up to Utah, and then I would fly back home after Julie was all settled in. I was excited about the road trip. We usually had great conversations, so I figured the time would go quickly.

Not quite.

Julie had spent her last couple of weeks saying goodbye to lots and lots of friends, which meant many late nights and little sleep. So when I started driving…she fell asleep. She slept. And she slept some more—and then she slept even more. 😂 Thankfully, my foot can get a little heavy on the gas pedal, so we were making good time.

Around noon, I was feeling great. We had gained an hour by driving into the mountain time zone, and I began thinking we could make it all the way to my sister’s house. YES! I decided right then that we would do it. Julie was on board with the idea. I called Brian and let him know about my plans, and he was a bit wary. He reminded me of all the hours I had left to drive, but I was resolute.

Onward we would go.

We stopped for gas and quick bathroom breaks. We bought food and ate in the car as we drove. We listened to all of Les Miserables and sang our hearts out. By the time we arrived in Moab, it was only 9 pm. I was feeling pretty tired, but determined. Julie encouraged me to keep going. We drove on.

About an hour away from my sister’s house, I was exhausted. Julie had fallen asleep (AGAIN!), and I was chewing gum, eating candy, and drinking a lot of water—anything that would keep me alert and awake. The canyons we drove through were dark. It was brutal. All of a sudden, the cars in front of us slowed to a stop.

Construction.

The section of freeway was closed down except for one lane. We had to wait. We watched the long line of cars traveling south go past us. It took about 20 minutes of sitting, and I was keenly aware of how tired I was. Finally, it was our turn, and I drove—safely—the rest of the way.

I got off the freeway and started winding down the streets to my sister’s home. I was focused on the map leading to our destination, so I was surprised when a police car’s flashing lights appeared right behind me.

UGH.

The officer came to my window and asked me if I knew why he pulled me over?

In all my honesty, I said, “ I have no idea how fast I was driving, actually.”

Then like uncontrollable vomit, my entire travelogue spilled out of my mouth. I told him about leaving Texas at 6 am, taking my daughter to BYU for college, and how we were five minutes from sleep.

“You were speeding. Going 49 in a 35 mph zone.”

I stared at him blankly. He took my license and went back to his car for a few moments. I was so tired, it was hard to think. It was 12:15 in the morning and I swear I was the only car on the road. Is it even speeding under those conditions??

Miraculously, he came back and warned me to slow down. I agreed. I just wanted to lie down and close my eyes.

We finally pulled up to my sister’s house. Hallelujah! We did it! Since everyone was already in bed and asleep, I went and put in the garage code. It didn’t work.

Julie and I both needed to go to the bathroom at this point, but one of us was feeling a little more urgent. I put in the code again and again and again and again.

NOTHING.

Julie saw one light on in the basement, so she knocked on it. No response. She even tried to open the car doors in the driveway, hoping that one would be open and would have a garage door opener inside. Nope. I called my sister. Twice. I texted her. We tried different variations of the code, but nothing budged the door. Even google and youtube were of no help.

Meanwhile, the need to use a bathroom had reached a boiling point. Urgent doesn’t describe how dire the need was. Desperate and out of time and options, the unthinkable happened.

Let’s just say the landscaped rocks on the side of the house got “watered” that night. 😳

I laughed in disbelief and frustration. Thirty minutes had passed, and we were no closer to lying on a bed! I called it. We got back in the car, and drove to a hotel down the road. Gratefully, we got a room. As the elevator doors closed, Julie and I looked at each other and started laughing. Did this really just happen?

I truly thought this was the end of this story.

It’s not.

It gets much better.

After sleeping for a few hours, we checked out of the hotel and moved Julie into her dorm. That night we went to dinner with my sister and her husband. We laughed over our inability to get into their garage. They couldn’t figure out why the code didn’t work? I had no explanation, just that it never opened.

We went back to BYU after dinner and put the finishing touches on Julie’s room. Around 10:30 pm, I drove to my sister’s house. I parked the car and started walking to the door, but I noticed the address numbers on the house were wrong.

Wut?

I walked up and down, confused, looking for the correct address. Google maps had led me straight here! I’m sure I looked insane walking up and down the street, dragging my suitcase behind me. I stopped and looked at the same house and the same garage we had spent so much time with the night before. Wasn’t this my sister’s home? I swore it was! I had taken pictures with my family on that porch! I just knew it. BUT—the house numbers don’t lie.

It was the wrong house.

I giggled, remembering our frustration, the way we both aggressively punched the numbers on that garage code repeatedly, the knocking on windows, and even the unfortunate rock incident. My giggles turned into boisterous laughter. I laughed so hard I cried, right there in the middle of the street on a Wednesday night in August. I called Julie and told her what we had done, and we laughed even harder.

I eventually gained my composure, went down one house, and opened the CORRECT garage with no problems at all.

Is there a life lesson in this? I’m not so sure. Perhaps you will just feel a little bit smarter after reading my story. It sounds like the tale of a drunken escapade, only no alcohol was involved. Just pure exhaustion. Maybe the effects of extreme tiredness and alcohol are the same?

I still burst out laughing when I think of this adventure. For me, I have found such value in having a sense of humor. If you don’t laugh about the ridiculous things (even the ones that are completely your own doing!), you’ll cry. And I prefer to laugh.

Don’t you?