Desert Sand Mica

Whatever, just crash it Bob...


Feels weird. Lots of things feel weird.

Daniel is extremely weird and stressed out. He's been working on his bikes all day, which always makes him in a bad mood anyway. We had to go to the bike shop and get a $7 part and yet he still came home and bitched and moaned all the while trying to fix it. fixed, he went in search of a DIY carwash. He didn't find one..he came home really cheerful after that. Then he started going through his homecoming stuff and starts freaking out about his shoes. We never did find any the other day, so he's making do and he's not happy. He thinks his shirt is too big, blah blah blah. Cindi is gonna come over and get him to EMily's house tomorrow, thank God. I don't think I could take it.

And weird..getting ready to go on a trip, isn't it? I haven't traveled a great deal, but enough. More road trips than airplane trips..and this one is both. Trying to pack for the plane ride..and immediately after. Then also figure out what we need for 1700 miles of road. One of our carry-on's is a soft sided we'll have that for the trip back to stock with road foodie. I would like to pack a pillow and a blanket, but I have no idea where I'd pack it. We've packed travel coffee cups and water bottles, lots of reading materials and about 50 hours worth of mp3's and the player. I'm very excited.

Also weird is getting ready to go on a trip with someone so sweet and flexible. Very different than the road trips I've taken with Dan. High stress, and everyone walking on eggshells. Daniel is behaving just like Dan, as a matter of fact. lol. The slightest bit of stress or change sends them into a tizzy of worry and fret.

And also, feeling weird here on this page for reasons that would take me a long time to explain. An unconditional venue turned turned into another source of stress. Funny, how public this is yet I feel so invaded from uninvited literary looky loos.. Maybe the break from here will cure that. I guess the consolation would be that the people that I don't want to be here are people I care nothing about. So maybe it doesn't even matter. I will never look back to them with fondness, or memories that make me smile. Maybe by the time I get back they'll be back to their sad little lives on their sad little committees with their sad little lists. Meanwhile, some dishes are better eaten cold. You know what I mean.


Gotta pack a little more.


Post a Comment

<< Home