The secrets behind the wheel

Hello readers of the world.

It is so wet in Britain. Isn't it always!? I have had to spend all morning outside in it. I was so wet and cold.

If I'm honest. I love rain. I love the sound it makes when it fall upon trees. I love the smell of the first sign of rain, after days of heat and sun. I like the feel of it dripping on to my hair and how refreshing and cleansing it is. I don't like being out in it for too long and getting soaked to the bone. 

That is why, now I am home in the warm with the window open and just listening to my tapping on the keyboard and the sound of the dipping. 

Currently really liking that word today; drip drip drip dripping. 

On the way back from work today, I was stuck in traffic. I'm always stuck in traffic, but that is just the city life for you. Boredom had already coursed through and landed deep into my soul. The lacking of concentration was building, so I did a peeking tom thing. I watched other people and what they do in their cars.

When you are in your car and it is only you in your car, (which quite a lot of us do, ozone layer people) you kind of enter this little bubble. For some unbeknown reason the outside of that car no longer counts. People can't see you in your car, so it doesn't matter. The secret bad habits come out. The picking your nose, picking a spot, having a good scratch around, farting. Listening, singing and doing a little jiggle to the music. 

Picking your nose is the common thing I see when stuck in traffic. I suppose it just gets to that point where the snot becomes too annoying! 

I have a terrible car secret. I talk to myself. I'm not crazy, before you judge me. Well you might actually judge me as crazy. But like everyone, I am in my bubble. I have isolated myself from the outside. Nothing else matters, I am in my own little world. In my car, I am far away, I am driving but with my imagination I am driving to a far away place. I talk to whoever is taking part in my imagination adventure. The truth is; I don't actually voice my conversation, but I lip it. I didn't go to my land, as I was having to much fun watching the rest of the world for a change.
That is my dirty secret of being behind the wheel. I talk to imaginary friends.
For the record, I know they aren't really there and I cannot see them. They are all in my head. I'm a dreamer.
Claire