So Much Time, So Little To Do. Wait. Stop. Reverse That

Gotta clean out the car. Gotta get something together for a porch picnic on Monday for my father and my visiting-from-Florida brother and sister-in-law. Gotta make sure that my father has something to eat while I'm away. Gotta pack. Gotta drop off Faithful Companion at the shelter.

Because Tuesday night, I want to go to bed around 9 pm and set my alarm for 3 am, so I can get up and get on the road.

Because I'm going to Inferno.

I'm driving there. Pretty sure that the price of gas on the way out will put me right in the poor house. I can't afford a motel this time, so I'll be catnapping at rest stops along the way. I think I'll be downright weepy a lot of the time on the trip. If I end up doing any scenes, that's just gravy. All I really want is just to be there. To have that dust work its way into the seams of my boots. To talk and laugh and play eye-hockey with those men. To remind myself maybe who I am. And what I'm about. And why I want to go on living.

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