even on texas time
“I hope you have a great trip”
“Thank you. I’m sure I will.”
“But you know, not a great trip.”
“Ha. What does that mean?”
“Well, you know. If it’s a really great trip, there’s a moment in it where you’re driving down the highway and get that urge to just keep on going and leave it all behind. You know?”
“No, can’t say that I do. I’ve pretty much always been ready to come home after a vacation.”
I do now.
I am home. There is drama, the magnitude of which didn’t really hit me when the actual news did. But we’ll get through it.
The Ford salesman really wants to sell me a car this month and I’m really inclined to let him, but given how unsteady I feel right now [see above] I’m not sure I can. Then again, on the flight home I was thinking that perhaps maybe all I really needed was to just do something really stupid and impulsive, and that just might be the ticket.
Or maybe I should just sleep on it.