A Very Good Bad Time

I would have liked to believe the cold sweats were the symptoms of my hangover resulting from the heavy drinking the night before, but I knew deep down I was drenched in sweat from regret. The night before in a drunken frenzy I had convinced my friend we should go on a road trip. The echoes of last night throbbed against my head, “From L.A. to Louisiana all we have to take is the 10 Freeway! It's only a 28 hour drive!” Oh good lord, what was I thinking?! It's a 28 hour drive!
After a quick nap I woke up to unfamiliar surroundings. We had hit the road with the comfort of our urban city far behind us. The smell of smog and smug was no longer in the air. The initial excitement of the road trip had fizzled out and we were in too deep to turn back. With a drawn on smile, we apathetically exchanged words of pleasantry. As if to reassure each other and convince ourselves we kept on saying how amazing this road trip was, how much of a good idea it was.
After what felt like forever we crossed the border between CA and AZ. Maybe it was seeing the signs that welcomed us into a different state, or maybe it was because I had recovered my energy from the night before, but moments after we crossed into AZ we caught a second wind of excitement. Despite going from one desert to another, the scenery transformed substantially. We cheered as we pushed forward on the I-10. There was a certain excitement every time we crossed a border. We started talking nonstop like prepubescent preteen girls,

Do people in Arizona know their freeway feels like the desert level in Mario Kart?
What the hell is a 'Whataburger'?
Why do all the other cities look & smell cleaner than L.A?
It’s a U.S. Customs Checkpoint! What do we do?
I don’t know just look as American as possible.
No it's not murder if the animals run into our car!

Although the journey started with Louisiana being the main objective, we came back to our hometown with more stories about the road. About how we met a tatted up Mexican cuddling the cutest Maltese at a gas stop, how we got lost and ended up in the most tranquil environment of plant life and wildlife. How people from a ghost town waved at us hello and we waved back, but we never left the car because that’s how horror films start. The I-10 was supposed to simply be an instrument to get us to our destination, but we discovered it was a tremendous part of our traveling experience. It wasn't a 28 hour countdown till arrival, it was just the first 28 hours of our journey.