One Thousand Nights Of Sleep Couldn't Save Me Now

I don't think I'll ever be comfortable in a car again. I have seen more near misses, blatant violations, and reckless decisions in the past 36 hours than I hope to ever see again.

About 20 minutes out on I-75, Alfonzo is already at 80. He gets pulled over (bless you, Officer. Whatever creed you subscribe to, I thank it), but his 17 MPH ticket is no deterrant. I didn't think a car that full of stuff could go that fast. I didn't know roadkill exploded like that. I didn't know that the cop who pulled us over in Cobb County was the only cop on patrol ANYWHERE between my house and St. Louis.

Through Illinois, I didn't see a single wheat or corn field. I saw planes of solid colors whirr past, but I wasn't sure if we were merely speeding, or if we had gone into plaid. Truly, though, the speed was ludicrous.

The suite is, or will be, perfect. My mattress isn't, and will never be, comfortable. I might be better off sleeping on the pile of clothing under my bed. It seems softer, and less likely to contain latent urine.

At any rate, I've got a little bit of shopping to do before I get settled in.

-Alan