who?
t-minus 20 days and counting |
Rock 'n' Roll 'n' Rock 'n' Roll
My days have collapsed into a steady, repeating rhythm: by day, obsess over every minute detail possible related to driving around the country, repeatedly trace the little red lines on road maps, measure driving distances and times on MapQuest, do � surprisingly � very little daydreaming; by night, toss and turn in nervous agitation over what the hell am I doing setting off to drive coast to coast by myself with no fixed destination quitting my job without future prospects in the worst unemployment rate in twelve years oh jeebus am I really going to camp by myself on dark scary nights in strange places where I'm sure to be gobbled up by hordes of scorpions or even Scorpions or molested by prostate-curious aliens and what makes me think I'll like nature any better just because I don't have to see the same bit of it day after day have I really saved as much money as I will need what if my car is stolen oh dear what if I accidently cross over into the Black Lodge and the good me is stuck inside forever HOW'S ANNIE HAHAHA HOW'S ANNIE HAHAHA; by morning, anticipation and anxiety stirring, and the disturbing thought that I will almost certainly have to go more than a day without a shower.
Now I feel nervous and overwhelmed. This feeling is supposed to dissolve into nostalgic excited ethereal euphoria once I'm on the road. In theory.