The Fog

What is it about fog that makes me feel like I’m suffocating and trapped? Honestly, when driving anywhere on a foggy day, especially in the mornings, I have begun to get panicky and anxious. Not sure if this is due to yet another midlife crisis (seems I’ve had several during my forty-something years) or perhaps it’s a mental thing.

How to describe what I feel shouldn’t be difficult so here goes:

As I steer the car to my destination the fog surrounds everything in sight. I can’t see the hills, trees or the landscape I am used to driving by each day. There’s fog everywhere and as I stare straight ahead all I see is a cloud of whiteness…is whiteness a word? There’s something eerie about the fog as it envelopes my surroundings and I notice at some point it gets thicker making visibility almost non-existent. Is the driver in front of me going to stop suddenly? Will another vehicle go through a stop sign and plow into me? These and other questions go through my mind as I drive cautiously trying not to think of that stupid movie “The Mist”. If you don’t know the movie there was fog, aliens, people disappearing, bodies, blood and plenty of soldiers in the end. I drive and the more I try to look beyond the fog the more fear I feel. Fear of not finding my way out of the fog. How weird does that sound?

Trapped in a cottonball-like environment where visibility is denied makes my journey stressful and damn it to hell longer than usual. I arrive at my destination and now I have to face the ‘bad hair’ effect which the fog is the cause of. Yep, that is me walking as I feel my hair shrinking and doubling in size as the humidity hones in and makes my now nest-looking hair its home. No worries now for I will have another eight hours before I head back into my cloud of terror. The worse part is driving in the fog at night-time. As the headlights try their best to show me the road, it is useless since all I see in front of me is more thick white fog. The air feels warm, the windshield is fogged so I put on the wipers to no avail since the fog is the culprit here. It is suffocating as I continue to drive and it seems to be a never-ending road of fog. Where is everybody? I see no headlights or breaklights anywhere and now I feel like the only person on the road. Whew! White knuckled and with my tense shoulders I continue on my quest hoping I don’t encounter any deer or any other four-legged creature for if I do they will become road kill.

Hmm, I hope others out there feel the same way because at this point in my life I can’t afford a therapist to figure this out for me…what am I saying, Puerto Ricans do not believe in therapists! As my mom would say,  “con una bofeta se te quitan las changuerias! Que therapia ni therapia. En la Isla esas poca verguenzas te las quitan con dos o tres chancletazos! Y si no se te quitan, el palo de la escoba te garantiza un remedio!” 

I’m sure I killed it with my Spanish writing. Good thing my mother doesn’t even know how to find my blog!

Life is good..with or without the fog.



This picture was taken one morning as I was driving to work. I couldn’t help myself.


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