Sleeping in the Car Only Works if You’re a Passenger

I’ve determined I have to start getting a lot more work done while I’m sleeping. It’s really the only viable option I’ve come up with so far. Don’t tell me that that’s impractical. The only other option is to sleep while I’m driving, and clearly that won’t work. My car is so uncomfortable that I’d never get any good rest.

I don’t even know what else to say about that. I haven’t had much sleep. I am trying to work when I want to be asleep and I want to be working when I am too tired. That doesn’t even make sense. I’ve heard it said that you can’t die from a lack of sleep and I like to remind those people that, yes, that is true. A lack of sleep doesn’t kill you; it makes you go crazy. Like Jack Nicholson in The Shining crazy. No TV and no beer make Homer something something.

Maybe I could hire a driver. I wonder if Morgan Freeman is available. Driving Doctor Dawn could be a movie. Sequels are usually terrible so no one would be disappointed. No, that probably won’t work. I would want to stay awake listening to him tell stories in his silky voice-over baritone. Or read grocery lists. Really, anything sounds good when Morgan Freeman says it. So much for plan B.

I’m hardly the first person in the history of employees in urban areas to have a long commute. I know this. It’s new to me though. My sleep cycle doesn't like it. My pocketbook doesn’t like it. My car doesn’t like it. My sense of environmental responsibility to planet earth doesn’t like it. My butt doesn’t like it. Seriously, I think I need more ergonomic seats. Maybe a nice built-in back massager too. It’s clear I’m going to have to get a new car. Don’t tell my old car. She’s sensitive.

I bought my old car at a time when my primary concern was getting around town in the snow. My previous car could not—or would not—get up a slight incline if there was any snow. By that I mean that it could not ascend an ice-covered speed bump. Clearly my needs have evolved. For example, yesterday, I drove through a downpour at 75 miles per hour where I simultaneously had to have my windshield wipers on high and have my visor lowered because of the blindingly bright sun. I still don’t know where the rain was even coming from. The sky was blue. What the hell, Florida? Also, I was getting passed by a lot of other cars because I was going so slow.

Snow is not an issue here (though mystery rain may present some interesting navigational challenges) but lengthy drives with lots of large pick-ups piloted by rednecks driving two inches off my bumper at 80 miles an hour are. I actually saw a pick-up yesterday with a large confederate flag mounted in the truck bed flying in the wind as it went down the road. Hashtag South Florida. My Jeep is no longer appropriate. (Have I mentioned the unwanted attention from my Obama sticker? This may be why so many rednecks are tailgating me.) I need a shiny new thing. I was going to buy a motorcycle, but the dealership would not let me test drive it because…reasons. Seriously, something to do with insurance or related BS that I suspect was the dealership not wanting to pay for the insurance they could actually get. Who would buy a used vehicle without test driving it first? Not I. They promised I could bring it back for a full refund after ten miles if I wanted to. Ten miles wouldn’t even get me home.

In summation, this is all Henry Ford’s fault. I miss horses. You could sleep on them and still get where you were going. Zzzzz…