Last Friday Husby and I went to Boston to get me an emergency US passport. He didn't want me to drive down on my own.
I was a bit perturbed by that. This gal moved to the US for four months without anyone. I interviewed at Buckingham Palace. I got a Masters Degree. I gave birth to two children.
I have to go back this afternoon to pick up the passport. I have to go alone. Well shoot. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of driving to Boston alone. Sick to my stomach. The drive, wanting to fall asleep on the drive, finding my way around Boston, Massachusetts drivers (so not a stereotype), the Tobin bridge, I93, missing my boys, being alone in Boston.
Apparently 31 is the age where you regress to infancy and need a helping hand.