Rest Stops

   My head is light and yet, I feel well. I've been awake since 3am on Tuesday. It is currently 8am on Wednesday. Oh, considering the timezone change, I suppose my mind is still on the Illinois time schedule, and it would be 7am to me. Even so, that's a long time to be awake.

     On top of being desperately sleepy, I worked the entire time I have been awake save for the seven hour car ride in which we dragged out to be nine hours due to rest stop breaks. My day began with piles of laundry that I fed through the washer and dryer as quickly as possible before Rent-A-Center came back to claim them. Packed the rest of our things, threw things that didn't fit in the car into the dumpster, cleaned the apartment we left, and got into the car.

    Does anyone else spend all their time on a car ride listening to or singing along with music? I do. Every time. I guess I picked up the habit in elementary school when the entire bus would chime childlike rhymes and songs in unison to pass the time consuming rides to field trip destinations. Anyway, it's the only thing that keeps me awake when I'm tired AND entertains me so that I am less annoying on the way because normally, I would be passenger seat driving and making horrible/scared noises. Unfortunately, my significant other doesn't have one of those things, to pass the time I mean (other than being the [again] unfortunate one who drives), AND he has to listen to my singing.

    So, he stops frequently to take breaks. Lots of times before we solely stopped at gas stations, but this time was unusual because we only stopped at rest stops. Rest stops are quite strange and most carry this... Eerie, empty, bare, uneasy vibe. We drove all night, so when we arrived at these areas, it was as if no one knew they existed, and everything was much too quiet.

    The first time I felt calm since I started the laundry was once I reached home and made some tea. My warm mug made me smile and gave me the small bit of energy to keep up on my work. Home is with my dad, and currently we are on break in between major moves, so I am visiting my home until it is time to go to the next place. Well, my dad is quite depressed, you see. He dislikes himself immensely, and so he hoards a little. By a little, I mean he holds onto the daily newspapers for whatever reason and also inadvertently collects cat hair from the two felines on and between the pages. After all the hard work I put in on Tuesday, I came home and cleaned up my dad's space. Diet Bach Tea has to be the reason I am even able to keep my eyes open to type this message. Speaking of which, I think I will catch some sleep soon and will be looking forward to another serving of tea.