Tomorrow, I get to be in an alternate reality. I’m going Away For a Night. In a New Car, Not Mine. ALONE.

I’m going to a conference on Wednesday, in a Boston suburb, and because of the way my employer handles things, I have to rent a car instead of taking my own. And because it’s so! far! away! I’m taking tomorrow to drive down. Leisurely. Stopping in places like Freeport, and Kittery, and wherever else I damn please. I’m going to go to IKEA (woohoo! Lame to be so excited about the IKEA, but there you go) and watch cable tv and take a bubble bath and sleep in a king size Cloud Nine (TM) Bed ExperienceALL BY MYSELF. No crying, lost pacis, blanket hogs, hand caught in hair, foot caught in neck readjust the toddler back to vertical OMG is it time to get up and go to work again? I’m going to get up and go to a conference where I’ll probably get a nice little plastic name pin and a free danish, and be All About My Brains for a day. I’ll drive home, maybe screeching in before bedtime, maybe not, and then I get to be a bit late on Thursday, because I have to switch rental cars.

Seriously. I keep reminding myself “I HAVE TO GO TO THE CONFERENCE.”

In 17 months, I’ve not been away from Ingrid, save for one night, when I was shuddering with fever after a shoot, and I slept fitfully in the second bed of my parents’ hotel room, where fever and parental snoring kept me from REALLY sleeping, and I had to hand-express in the shower to relieve engorgement. And even then, I was home by 8am. This is different — planned, with fun things to do on the way. Even driving alone sounds thrilling at this point, but then, I always was a road trip kind of girl. Still am, of course.

Today, I’m printing maps and confirmations and purchase orders and all of that, and daydreaming of the Hanna outlet and IKEA and debating on eating in my room, or finding someplace to eat at, both which have their appeal. Ahhhh.