a very long ride to cape cod

I am determined to pack light.  I am going to the Cape for a week, and I already have clothes there.   Clothes I don't love, but that are totally suitable for Cape Cod.  But how is it that by the time I'm done packing, I look like I am leaving for the rest of the summer?

I don't take many clothes, but the beach pillow I bought last year has to come with me.  And then there is my sunscreen stuff.  A packable straw hat.  Two books, in case I finish one.  And all my electronic gear and associated charges.

My overstuffed LV Neverfull bag is over full.  My carry on stuff weighs more than my suitcase.  A thermos of coffee.  Today's Times and Post.  A small frozen lunch box containing a bagel-lox-and cream cheese sandwich along with lots of red grapes.  A 468-page book.  Several magazines.  My iPad, nano, phone and wallet.  A bottle of water. And a large wrap (as in the kind you wear, not eat) in case the AC on the bus is too cold.   I need all of this as it's four and a half hours to Boston on the Bolt Bus and another hour and a half on another bus to the Cape.  I could fly to Iceland in less time.

Midway to the Cape the bus driver announces that the AC is not working.   The temperature inside must be close to 100.  People are starting to feel ill, and the bus driver pulls over and opens the vents on the roof of the bus.  It makes the ride marginally better.  Within a half hour everyone receives an email from Bolt Bus apologizing for the problem, and giving us all a refund. 

By the time I reach the Cape, it is after four.  I have been traveling since nine, and look it. My  mom picks me up and we go to see my dad, who is still in rehab.  He looks at my mom, and says, "You are so beautiful," and she laughs.  He tells her this all the time now.  He looks at me and tells me my hair looks good, which it doesn't. No AC?  Seven hours on a bus?  Lower back pain?  All worth it to hear my dad say, "I'm so glad you're here."