The Storm Before The Calm

I don't know where it comes from. By body needs to be in motion, to forge ahead, to scoff at stillness.
The hours before any trip i am a wreck. If i'm leaving in the morning, the night before my stomach always rebels against my inaction, it falls and rises moves from side to side – I’m ready to go. Aren’t you? it demands. Yes I’m ready, but I can’t, not just yet.
In the hours before my exit my heart races, a slight hint of nausea is at the entrance of my throat, always followed by booming pulsating headache. I have no patience for anything. My mind and body is trained on one thing only - walking out my front door.
Oh, and there is always an argument(if there is anyone there to argue with). I found myself on many occasions blowing up over, well over nothing. Releasing that pent up energy and then the silence and hurt afterwards. Only to later, in the car wonder, “What were we fighting about?” then crack a joke and look as the person next to you slowly forgives your pre-trip jittery nerves freak-out.
So here I am at work, a few hours before I leave, on my birthday waiting for the clock to strike a magical number. I can’t think or do anything remotely useful. I’m looking forward to buckling my seatbelt plugging in my Nomad and experiencing the pull of the road under me.
So, like the family tradition dictates, I’ll sit for a few minutes in stillness before i head off to meet a new friend who inexplicably feels like a very old and dear friend.