Commuter couple

Everybody is looking for ways to save on gas these days, and we are no exception. So when I got a job that's close to where Joe works, the first thing he said was "Great! We can commute together!"

Now, I am all for couple togetherness, but my car is my private space. Having anyone else in it while driving to work, even my beloved spouse, would be a violation of that space.

"I mean, we can use the time to talk, right?" he said. "You're always wanting to talk."

"Yessss," I said cautiously. I did like to talk as a couple, but speeding down a crowded highway at 7 a.m. really didn't seem conducive to the kind of talking I liked to do.

"Well," he said, "in the car we can talk about what we'd like to do with the patio, how to put some storage upstairs, how to put some storage downstairs..."

These topics were definitely not on my commuting agenda.

Just as there are Morning People and Night People, there are Social Commuters and Introspective Commuters. We Introspective Commuters like to use our drive time to ponder important things, like exactly why it is that we are speeding down the highway at 7 a.m. We do not like to use the time to solve home ownership issues.

But a little time with the budget and calculator overcame my reluctance, and we set off on our first commute together. It was okay, actually. For the first two minutes. Then, somewhere between Exit 22 and 25, the Social Commuter broke my cardinal rule of commuting, which is:

While in the car there will be no discussion of putting paneling in the basement, or any other subject that has a direct correlation to my blood pressure.

"So I was thinking I could put some paneling in the basement," he said enthusiastically.

He could hardly have picked a subject that I would respond more negatively to. Paneling ranks right up there with shag carpeting, in my book. The house I grew up in had a family room that was completely paneled, and it was not my Happy Room.

"Look, honey," I said, "I want to be calm and peaceful when I get to work." I made a rolling gesture with my arms to indicate being peaceful. "I was happy when I got in the car, I want to be happy when I get out of the car."

"You'll be happy when I get out of the car," he said.

But since then, we've been fine. We've worked out our little differences in commuting preferences, and everyone's been happy. Mainly because he drives to work in his car now, and I drive in mine.