Meandering Towards Buffalo

Northbound on I-77, just north of Charlotte, North Carolina. I’m heading for Buffalo, New York. That’ll mean driving all night. I took what could have been a nice, leisurely stroll spread over the entire day and turned it into a 700 mile sprint in the last fourteen hours before the receiving cut-off at the consignee. Hell, I knew I shouldn’t stop by Mama’s this morning. But she’d overdrawn her checking again. So I went by to drop off a $100 check to help her out. I got in about 02:00, played World of Warcraft until about 05:00, then slept until about 10:00. The smart thing would have been to get up and hit the road. But I didn’t. And I can honestly say that I have no idea what happened to the rest of the day. All I know is that I started out very late. And it will be a minor miracle if I can make it to Buffalo on the four or five hours of sleep that I got this morning. But at the same time I know I’ll pull it off. I always do.
I have at least a clue what’s going on here. I just didn’t want to get back in the truck. I lost my day thirty minutes at a time as I kept putting off leaving. Mainly because I’m always reluctant to get back into my box. I’m so sick of it.
When I finally made my way back up to the truck, I had two thoughts in my mind. The first me wondering if I can possibly do this for another six months. I don’t care how great it will be once I actually start recording. I’m not convinced I can make. I’ve already practically turned myself into a machine and tamped down on my emotions, just to be hard enough to see this through. It’s just left me feeling like a dog in a cage in the corner of the yard, far away from the house and any sense of normality.
The other thought was more disturbing. It occurred to me that wishing you could die and being suicidal are not the same thing. There are those who don’t realize that.

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