Trains suck

Subtitle: And my husband is a crazy nutjob for liking them.

This weekend we flew across the country to Atlanta to work a quiz bowl tournament. Since we were then on the east coast, we decided to head up to DC and take a short vacation.

The question then became how. I hate airport security and now drive whenever I can to avoid supporting airports. Atlanta is supposed to be a pretty crappy place for security, so the hubby suggested a train. He LOVES trains. After college he took a month long trip in order to ride trains and see ball parks. Yesterday we had down time, so he spent two hours riding Atlanta’s local trains. For fun.

Anyway, he’s been trying to get me to take an overnight train trip with him for awhile, and this seemed like a good time. So I said sure and we got a sleeper car.

Worst. Fucking. Idea. Ever.

To start, getting to Atlanta we had airplane delays so we got to our hotel at about 3am. Then we had to report at ungodly hours for the tournament, so I was anyway sleepy.

We get on the train and go to our car. Which is roughly the same
size as a phone booth. Seriously, sitting up there is barely more room than you get on an airplane, but trains take longer. Woo hoo! But OK, whatever. What is that next to the hubby’s seat? Oh! It’s a toilet! I basically sit in his lap to use the restroom! But OK, no big deal, I’ll just kick him out. I was a little surprised by all this, but still doing good.

Then it came time to sleep.

Or rather, get thrown around the f***ing car while trying to brace myself and ignore the near constant screaming of the horn.

At 2am I was still wide awake.

Finally, awhile later I got so exhausted I drifted a little, but every 10 to 15 minutes I was woken by either almost being thrown out of bed, my arm falling asleep, pain in my back or neck, or a jerking stop of the train.

So yeah. No real sleep.

My husband, on the other hand, slept like a baby. He “likes movement.” I hate him a little.

And now I get to go meet my husband’s uncles, who I’ve never had any contact with before and who we’re staying with, exhausted and unable to control myself. So. Fucking. Stressed. Hello, anxiety.

Trains fucking suck.

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