>> ADIA: I CLIMB INTO THE DRIVER’S SEAT AND ADJUST THE MIRRORS.

IT’S A BRIGHT MORNING, SO I REACH FOR MY SUNGLASSES IN THE UPPER COMPARTMENT.

I REMEMBER: “RIGHT, NO UPPER COMPARTMENT.” IN A MOMENT OF DISTRACTION, I BUMP MY TRAVEL COFFEE MUG, SLOSHING HOT COFFEE INTO THE CUP HOLDER.

NO PROBLEM.

I’LL JUST GRAB SOME NAPKINS FROM MY DRIVE-THROUGH NAPKIN STASH.

NO NAPKINS.

I ONE-HANDED DIG IN THE CENTER CONSOLE FOR SOMETHING, ANYTHING, TO SOAK UP THE MESS.

ALL I FIND IS A ROLL OF QUARTERS AND A FEW WARREN ZEVON CDs.

I SHAKE MY FIST AT THE SKY.

I’M DRIVING...

THE OTHER CAR.

MY CAR, MY NORMAL CAR, ISN’T IMMACULATE.

BUT I KNOW THAT I CAN FIND EVERYTHING I NEED IN A MATTER OF SECONDS.

BABY WIPES?

IN THE PASSENGER SEAT BACK POCKET.

HAND SANITIZER?

WEDGED IN BY THE FIRST AID KIT ON THE FLOOR.

WAD OF DRIVE-THROUGH NAPKINS PEOPLE MOCK ME FOR KEEPING?

IN THE CENTER CONSOLE WHERE THEY BELONG.

20-YEAR-OLD CDs TO PLAY IN MY 17-YEAR-OLD CAR’S CD PLAYER?

UNDER THE DRIVER’S SEAT.

I AM ROAD TRIP READY AT ALL TIMES.

WHICH IS WHY IT’S SO DISORIENTING WHEN THE CAR I REGULARLY DRIVE IS IN THE SHOP AND I’M FORCED TO DRIVE THE OTHER CAR.

THERE IS NO DRIVE-THROUGH NAPKIN STASH IN THE OTHER CAR.

IN THE OTHER CAR, I’M NOT ABLE TO REACH INTO THE BACKSEAT AND -- BY KINETIC MEMORY ALONE -- GRAB A DROPPED TOY AND TOSS IT BACK INTO THE CAR SEAT, EYES GLUED TO THE ROAD THE ENTIRE TIME.

MY VEHICLE IS NOT AN EXTENSION OF MY PURSE WHEN I’M DRIVING THE OTHER CAR.

NEXT TIME MY CAR’S IN THE SHOP, I’M TAKING MY BIKE.