Thelma and Louise Blog Post

        The kids were at school and it was the first moment I’d had to myself in a while. Things had been busy at the boutique—thankfully—but I needed a goddamn day off. I was exhausted, for God’s sake. My hand shook ever so slightly as I poured hot water from the kettle into a chipped ceramic mug. Grabbing the paper—I had gotten into crossword puzzles recently even though I could hardly spell to save my freakin’ life—I retreated to the living room. Collapsing into my favorite chair, I took one look at the crossword and threw the paper to the side. I stared out the window for a few moments, pondering the residential street for no reason and observing the few cars that rolled slowly past. Suddenly bored, I wondered absentmindedly if I should open up the boutique this afternoon. Yet the thought of the energy I would expend in doing that nearly exhausted me and instead I turned on the radio. I listened to weather and traffic reports without really processing, and was about to power the goddamn thing down until the newscaster’s voice caught my attention.

            “On this episode of the Daily Brief we’ll discuss the story of two female criminals. Leaving their peaceful lives, they tore across the country, leaving a trail of murder and robbery in their wake. Pursued to the edge of the Grand Canyon by law enforcement, they launched themselves—in their ’66 Thunderbird—off the edge. Listen up, cause we’re gonna take you on a wild ride during this next hour.”

            What the heck. This sounded slightly interesting. Well, more interesting than my crossword puzzle or tryin’ to read a book. I listened for the next hour, but by the end I needed fresh air. I don’t know why but I got this tight feelin’ in my chest. I grabbed my jacket and fled. I found myself on the beach in Monterrey. I was kickin’ around kelp and feelin’ like I’d done nothing with my life. Sure, I had kids. I had a little boutique. I once had a husband. I once had parents. I once had purpose--when i was on the road, at least. I once was more than a boring housewife with pointless relationships and a pointless livelihood. I looked towards the open ocean and wondered what it would be like if I just swam and never came back. What if I was like Thelma and Louise? What if I just went for it? I was “free” in Monterrey, but I wasn’t really free. What did the feeling of being free—no obligations, no store, no kids to worry about—actually feel like?