For the past seven years, the same right-hand turn has signified home for me. Hearing the repetitive click of the blinker and making eye contact with the dogwoods lining the blacktop, my brain hits a level of subconscious. I am then free to make observations on whatever thoughts stumble in on this part of my drive. Driving has become second nature, and once the comfort of the ending day sets in, I never give thought to the slight feeling of pressure on the bottom of my right foot that pushes me towards home. Allowing my mind to drift while guiding a large, glossy piece of steel rolling down a road has become a habit for me. However, this habit is not a harmless one. Even the most experienced driver should give extra thought to the conse
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