Driving in LA. (...nobody walks in LA)

Driving in LA used to be such an awful thing. It still is, an awful thing, the roads are still bad, there is a surprising number of people on the road and there is still traffic.

Driving was something that was necessary and perfunctory, and now it is something I am enjoying. The silence compiled of white noise, road bumps, and car horns. 

If only for a little while. With everyone wearing masks and staying home, driving is no longer the most profoundly ingrained truth of every single day. I think today is the first day that I have left the house in a week. Today is definitely the first time that I’ve gotten into a car in a week. I’m trying to decide if I am sad or happy about not having been in this tiny black oasis of mine. There’s something sad about the end of a routine and that is exactly what it feels like. Like a routine has ended and a new one is yet to be established.

I wonder if this new routine will be happy or awful.