Hello? ISS calling...
Apr. 5th, 2025 09:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
just_cydIt's probably a sign of how off-kilter I am that, now that the initial crisis has settled into the distant past, I am once again planning on making a trip to see a show knowing full well I won't have a place to sleep other than my car.
The first time it happened, it was a surprise. A crisis of my own making. I had a new-to-me hotel booked, and arriving to town early, decided to get that much-overdue oil change pre-show, rather than waiting until morning, hoping I could fit it in between hotel checkout and breakfast with John. I knew money was tight, but with cash in hand for gas, I was not counting pennies. So upon checkin, when the required $100 deposit would not go through (despite having pre-paid for the room), I panicked. I was $5 and change short. I cursed every step I'd made prior to that moment, and panicked. Called my credit union, who assured me if I went to XYZ location I could make a deposit at the ATM, and all would be well. Three Credit Union ATMs later, none of which would take a deposit from me. I had a mini meltdown in a parking lot, noticed the time ticking away on a Friday night in RDU, and ran with Plan B. Found a McDonald's, threw my concert clothing into a bag and changed in the bathroom, cleaning up as much as one can when there aren't paper towels, treated myself to a milkshake for dinner, and headed to Wake Forest for the Attaway/Dixon/Holsapple show.
As a full-on wreck needing distraction, I talked to people and helped out Mike by working the door and in general kept myself busy so as not to think about having to sleep in my car on this cold night. I stayed late to help clean up, and to talk to Don, and to ultimately put off the inevitable. There's a rest stop on I-40/I-85 at the Alamance County Line that's about an hour away from Wake Forest. I saw it and I thought that maybe I should stop there. I was too far over to exit, and figured I'd be fine, just another couple hours to the state line. I was not, in fact, fine. Deer were all over the sides of the highway, and as I'm not used to driving this stretch at night, I was disoriented by lack of visible landmarks and on high-alert for the deer. I stopped in Pilot Mountain to get gas, and was tired to the point of delirium. Clearly the night clerk at the gas station had seen mine kind before, helpfully prompting me through my transaction and reminding me to get my gas as I stumbled to my car. Fortunately, the state line is only 20 miles or so from there.
I pulled into the VA Welcome about 1:30am to find the place quite populated. Potty breaks and parking lot naps all around. I parked on the side against the building, sort of under a light, but a few cars away from others, as had already been established. I ran my heat on high for a minute while I figured out how to make this work, then shut off the car, put the keys on my wrist, laid the seat back, and tried to rest. I lasted about an hour with only my flannel and tee-shirt, before groping around in the back seat for the shacket that was both heavy and long, and used it to cover up. My pullover hoodie was my pillow. I bit later, I was cold enough I needed to run the car for a few minutes for the heat, as some of the others were doing, too. I think it was in the 40s. About 5:30 I had to pee, and felt rested enough that I thought I could try to soldier on. I didn't actually sleep, being on high-alert from the light and noise and paranoia. But I was able to rest, and felt far more able to drive than I had a few hours earlier. I think
I'd had to cancel my breakfast plans with John, and I told him why; figured someone needed to know what I was doing. Dan also ended up getting snippets of the tale, his disapproval obvious through messenger. As promised, I texted John each time I stopped with updates on where I was and how I was doing. I think I was home by 1pm, out cold by 3pm, and slept for the next 20 hours straight.
The following weekend was the highly anticipated Darren Jessee show, and it ended up that there was NO WAY I could afford a hotel for that show. So, I drove down the day of, knowing that I'd be sleeping in my car. I packed sweats to change into for comfort, a clean Tshirt, and the usual road food/drinks, and away I went. This time I made sure to stop at that first rest stop after the show, and the earlier stop along with some Benadryl meant that I actually slept for a few hours. I set an alarm for good measure, and about the time I needed to hobble over to use the facilities, it was going off. I also had to deal with a massive amount of upper respiratory and eye crud, so while I felt a bit more rested than the week prior, I was still miserable. Again, there were many others doing the same thing, and once I remembered to tuck my purse out of view, I felt as safe I could be. I think that drive home was more rainy/windy/foggy, and took a bit longer, but again I crashed out hard once I got home.
All that to say that my situation has not changed one penny, and here I am planning to drive out west a similar distance for a show that I doubt I have the money to attend, knowing that I'll be sleeping in my car somewhere along the way. I've got the days requested off work, at least, and I think I can scrape together the gas money. it's the draw of live music, and this musician in particular, that has me committing crazy the likes of which could be seen from space. I'm sure the DSM-5 would have all sorts of fun things to say about this.
The first time it happened, it was a surprise. A crisis of my own making. I had a new-to-me hotel booked, and arriving to town early, decided to get that much-overdue oil change pre-show, rather than waiting until morning, hoping I could fit it in between hotel checkout and breakfast with John. I knew money was tight, but with cash in hand for gas, I was not counting pennies. So upon checkin, when the required $100 deposit would not go through (despite having pre-paid for the room), I panicked. I was $5 and change short. I cursed every step I'd made prior to that moment, and panicked. Called my credit union, who assured me if I went to XYZ location I could make a deposit at the ATM, and all would be well. Three Credit Union ATMs later, none of which would take a deposit from me. I had a mini meltdown in a parking lot, noticed the time ticking away on a Friday night in RDU, and ran with Plan B. Found a McDonald's, threw my concert clothing into a bag and changed in the bathroom, cleaning up as much as one can when there aren't paper towels, treated myself to a milkshake for dinner, and headed to Wake Forest for the Attaway/Dixon/Holsapple show.
As a full-on wreck needing distraction, I talked to people and helped out Mike by working the door and in general kept myself busy so as not to think about having to sleep in my car on this cold night. I stayed late to help clean up, and to talk to Don, and to ultimately put off the inevitable. There's a rest stop on I-40/I-85 at the Alamance County Line that's about an hour away from Wake Forest. I saw it and I thought that maybe I should stop there. I was too far over to exit, and figured I'd be fine, just another couple hours to the state line. I was not, in fact, fine. Deer were all over the sides of the highway, and as I'm not used to driving this stretch at night, I was disoriented by lack of visible landmarks and on high-alert for the deer. I stopped in Pilot Mountain to get gas, and was tired to the point of delirium. Clearly the night clerk at the gas station had seen mine kind before, helpfully prompting me through my transaction and reminding me to get my gas as I stumbled to my car. Fortunately, the state line is only 20 miles or so from there.
I pulled into the VA Welcome about 1:30am to find the place quite populated. Potty breaks and parking lot naps all around. I parked on the side against the building, sort of under a light, but a few cars away from others, as had already been established. I ran my heat on high for a minute while I figured out how to make this work, then shut off the car, put the keys on my wrist, laid the seat back, and tried to rest. I lasted about an hour with only my flannel and tee-shirt, before groping around in the back seat for the shacket that was both heavy and long, and used it to cover up. My pullover hoodie was my pillow. I bit later, I was cold enough I needed to run the car for a few minutes for the heat, as some of the others were doing, too. I think it was in the 40s. About 5:30 I had to pee, and felt rested enough that I thought I could try to soldier on. I didn't actually sleep, being on high-alert from the light and noise and paranoia. But I was able to rest, and felt far more able to drive than I had a few hours earlier. I think
I'd had to cancel my breakfast plans with John, and I told him why; figured someone needed to know what I was doing. Dan also ended up getting snippets of the tale, his disapproval obvious through messenger. As promised, I texted John each time I stopped with updates on where I was and how I was doing. I think I was home by 1pm, out cold by 3pm, and slept for the next 20 hours straight.
The following weekend was the highly anticipated Darren Jessee show, and it ended up that there was NO WAY I could afford a hotel for that show. So, I drove down the day of, knowing that I'd be sleeping in my car. I packed sweats to change into for comfort, a clean Tshirt, and the usual road food/drinks, and away I went. This time I made sure to stop at that first rest stop after the show, and the earlier stop along with some Benadryl meant that I actually slept for a few hours. I set an alarm for good measure, and about the time I needed to hobble over to use the facilities, it was going off. I also had to deal with a massive amount of upper respiratory and eye crud, so while I felt a bit more rested than the week prior, I was still miserable. Again, there were many others doing the same thing, and once I remembered to tuck my purse out of view, I felt as safe I could be. I think that drive home was more rainy/windy/foggy, and took a bit longer, but again I crashed out hard once I got home.
All that to say that my situation has not changed one penny, and here I am planning to drive out west a similar distance for a show that I doubt I have the money to attend, knowing that I'll be sleeping in my car somewhere along the way. I've got the days requested off work, at least, and I think I can scrape together the gas money. it's the draw of live music, and this musician in particular, that has me committing crazy the likes of which could be seen from space. I'm sure the DSM-5 would have all sorts of fun things to say about this.
